Remembered
by Sapphire Smoke
Summary: Sophie can't stop thinking about what happened that night, but what scares her more is that it wasn't the act she can't stop thinking about... it's him. -SEQUEL TO "FORGOTTEN"- •Eliot/Sophie•
1. Part I

**Title:** Remembered  
**Author:** Devereauxx  
**Beta:** Koryou on LJ  
**Fandom:** Leverage  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing(s):** Eliot/Sophie, Parker/Sophie (friendship/UST/dash of femslash), mentions of Parker/Hardison (mostly UST)  
**Timeline:** Starts right after its predecessor "Forgotten", going through 2.01-2.09 (sticking to canon! yes I'm proud of myself for that), and then my perception by what happens after 2.09  
**Summary:** Sophie can't stop thinking about what happened that night, but what scares her more is that it wasn't the act she can't stop thinking about... it's _him._  
**A/N:** Just so everyone is aware, this fic officially stamped my status as a Leverage fanfic slave. "Forgotten" was supposed to be a one time only show, but I got begged, and then I figured out a way to make it work with canon and got myself excited. Ha. Oh, also, I kind of just made Tara my own, since we really don't know anything about her real personality yet. And I have to brag that I wrote the first 20,000 words of this story in one sitting. Yay me. -slave, seriously-  
**Warning:** Kinky, of course. Apparently Eliot/Sophie screams kink to me. Involves rape fetishes (not the really scary kind), pegging, watersports. Lord, someone stop me. Ha. Though there is kink, I will say that there's a lot of humor and heart and all that mushy crap you all beg me to write too. LOL.

**PART I/3**

It was supposed to be forgotten.

But something of that caliber can never truly be forgotten. You can try, put it in the back of your mind, file it "not for use," or "do not open: danger." You can label it anything you want but the fact remains that people are curious by nature. Couple that with the human brain which can't bloody stop _thinking_ all the time, and you've got yourself a problem.

Sophie had that problem.

What's worse was that she knows Eliot has that problem too. They never spoke of it again; neither of them would dare to. It was one of those fucked up little situations that neither of them even knew now if it was even real, or just some really bizarre dream. The thing that made Sophie know that it wasn't just her mind having a go at her was when she woke up the next morning, bruised, sore, could barely even walk. Her body was screaming at her, and it scared her to realize she had something that bordered on some kind of insatiable addiction. Once she had a taste she wanted more, it was all she could think about. She did take a good long look at herself in the mirror that morning, naked as she ran her fingers delicately over all of the black, blue, and slight green patches that littered her skin, reminding her of what happened. They made her smile. Hell, they even made her horny.

Sophie used to rarely masturbate. Now, she does all the time. Just thinking about it, replaying what happened in her mind over and over. It wasn't forgotten; it was remembered… vividly. Eliot gave her something no one else would ever dare to, and more than anything she wished it could happen again. She played with herself nightly and thought of Eliot calling her a whore, throwing her to the ground, taking what he wanted from her. It was the most intense fantasy that she actually had the privilege of knowing in real life, which made it so much more vivid in her mind.

But it worried her. Every time she'd have her fingers buried inside herself and she'd pant Eliot's name into the darkness of her room, it worried her. She knew she couldn't be thinking about him that way. His hand on her throat, his cock so deep inside her that it almost bordered on painful. She couldn't think about that. She _shouldn't_ think about that. Yet it's what she thought about.

Every. Single. Night.

She seemed to be forming a rather unhealthy obsession, but it didn't matter, right? After all, they all went their separate ways. They would never see each other again, or at least that was the plan. It was done, over. A fun run, whatever. All the bullshit they spewed to each other, making some kind of dramatized farewell when they all damn well knew it wasn't over. Six months, a year, two, five, it didn't matter. They all knew it wasn't over.

Sophie knew that something was very wrong about this. She shouldn't have this lust to be abused. But that's what she had, and she couldn't stop it. She tried, she did. Tried to think about Nate, and how he would never hurt her, how he's everything she's wanted for the last ten damn years of her life. But all it did was make her draw further away from him, because of the one simple fact being that _he would never hurt her._

So she didn't call him. Didn't call anyone, except Parker. Maybe it was just cause she was worried about her, more than all the rest of them. She had some kind of motherly instinct when it came to the girl, and she wanted to make sure she was okay. Parker was unhappy, that much was clear. She never said anything about it, but when they would talk and she would tell her what she stole each week, she didn't have that joy in her voice that Sophie grew to love. But Parker, for all her lack of knowledge in the area of people, could tell something was wrong with Sophie too.

"I got the part."

Sophie can hear Parker crunching away on the other end of the line, stuffing herself with something that's probably clogging her arteries as they speak. "The singing part? You can't sing."

Sophie scoffs, but can't help but feel at home just because of Parker's blunt honesty. "How would you know? You've never heard me sing."

"Heard you sing in the shower once," she tells her, and Sophie hears another crunch. "You murder B flat." She ignores the fact that Parker was once snooping in her apartment while she was taking a shower, and the fact Parker knows anything about _notes_, and changes the subject.

"What the hell are you eating?"

"Frozen beef jerky."

"That's disgusting."

Parker makes some kind of noise, though Sophie can't distinguish what it means. There's more crunching for a bit, something that's working at Sophie's nerves, but she doesn't tell her that she needs to go, doesn't hang up, only because Parker's the closest connection to her family that she has. Finally Parker says, "Why don't you make everyone come?"

"Come where?"

Another crunch. "To your play."

Sophie switches ears on the phone while she opens her wine closet, suddenly feeling the urge for sangria. "Parker, you hate my plays." She's not stupid, she knows everyone hated going to her plays. All except Nate.

"They're horrible," Parker agrees, and Sophie wishes that Parker was in front of her so she could try to teach her about tact. Again. "But you like doing them, and friends are supposed to support you, even if you suck." A pause. "I mean , even if _they _suck. The plays."

Jeez. Well, at least she tried. Sort of. But it was kind of sweet, in that way that children try to do something right and still completely fail. She pours herself a glass of wine and asks, "You'd do that for me? Come to my play?"

There's a long pause, and a slow, awkward crunch. Sophie knew that meant that Parker was struggling with feelings. "I miss you," she says finally, flatly, trying to drain the emotions from her words. Then she apparent stuffs her mouth with those damn things, because the crunching becomes borderline obnoxious. "Plus," she continues, mouth full. "I wanna meet the boyfriend."

The boyfriend, Parker always called him that, even though Sophie did tell her his name. Stephen; a beautiful man, sophisticated and educated in the arts. He was perfect, everything she ever wanted. Or at least, everything she ever wanted, up until her encounter with Eliot. But he was convenient, he was there, he made her forget about everything that happened previously. Nate and that whole nightmare. Eliot and that whole fantasy. He just made her forget. Made her move on.

"What if no one else comes?" Sophie asks, trying not to let her vulnerability show through her words, even though she's sure Parker wouldn't catch it even if it did. It'd be nice; it would, seeing everyone again. One big reunion, the family back together. She was comfortable enough in her relationship with Stephen to think she could handle it. There was past, sure. Lots of fucked up past between all of them, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Family, after all, and all that.

"Sophie," Parker says in her serious voice, the crunching gone. "Don't be stupid."

And so they came, every single one of them. The awkward greetings at the door, the bar afterwards where she drowned her sorrows in margaritas, the job afterwards where they all teamed up and conned Nate into running their crew again.

The job. _That _job.

The one thing Sophie vividly remembers about that job was that that's when she realized that six months and even a boyfriend couldn't make her put behind her what happened with Eliot. There were awkward looks, and what was even worse was when she tried to be normal. The problem was that she couldn't even remember what normal was like with them anymore, and when Nate finally caved and gave into helping them with the con, she smiled, gave Eliot a little half hug with, "See that? He did miss us."

Eliot looked so uncomfortable, and she could feel him tense beneath her as she touched him. She withdrew, vowed to never touch him again. Vowed to just… just let it all go. No use trying to act normal, she didn't even know what normal was. It would just be better if she avoided the whole thing. Avoided him.

The worst thing about the six months apart and the boyfriend thing was the fact that even though it didn't work with Eliot, it seemed to have worked with Nate. And of course, because life loves to have a bloody laugh at her expense, it came at the worst possible time. Nate was showing an interest. A fucking real, complete interest. Finally, after ten years. And it just didn't… it didn't matter anymore. Part of her still loved him, but she didn't want him anymore. Hell half the time she wasn't sure she even wanted Stephen, but mainly because it's been awkward with them after she tried to put herself out there to him and ask him to do something that apparently was just not… it wasn't what he was into. Her little fantasy made him look at her like something was _wrong _with her.

The worst part about that was that it still made her feel like something really _was _wrong with her.

Her vow to stay away from Eliot didn't last. The very next job she went to him, saw him in that ring; sweaty, angry, getting himself ready to be taken down. She had the thought to just walk away, leave him be, but it didn't last. Something drew her to him, though she wasn't sure what. They had barely made eye contact since they team had gotten back together, and she just needed to… hell, she just needed to know that things were gonna be alright. That yeah, things were weird, but if they couldn't be alright then the family will fall apart again. Neither of them wanted that, she knew that much.

They didn't talk about what happened, at least, not outright and directly. Sophie tried, tried to just open her damn mouth and say the words that were going through her head, but all that came out was about Nate would figure it out. Eliot just looked at her, with this look that made her know that he already knew that wasn't why she came.

"I'm losing a fight Sophie, not diving on a grenade."

She resisted the urge to just say fuck it, walk out of there. She didn't want to deal with his smart ass remarks, but she couldn't blame him for it either. After all, if she couldn't start the conversation, why should he?

"l'll be alright." He turns away from her, like they're done.

"I know, I'm not talking physically," Sophie tells him suddenly, with more meaning behind her words than what the conversation was actually about. He turns back at her, looking at her in this way that make's Sophie think they're having the boyfriend conversation or something. But that couldn't be right, because that implied Eliot was jealous. And to imply that Eliot was jealous would be to imply that he…

That's never going to happen.

"I think my ego can handle it." He turns away from her again. Damn him. Can't he see that this isn't easy for her either? All the awkwardness, all the whatever the hell this was. Can't he just bloody _try?_

Sophie wants to scream at him, tell him that's not what she meant, but she didn't even know if that's really what he was thinking. So she lets it go, and tries to pursue the job conversation as some sort of cover, whist trying to make her point about what she was actually talking about through subtext. "Look," she says cautiously, trying to figure out a way to word this. "You told me that it's about control. About knowing that you're never gonna be the victim."

He turns to her then, and she can tell in his eyes that he knows what the conversation is really about now. "And… that's what keeps you going, right?" she finishes, a little catch in her voice. Talking about herself, talking about him, talking about it all.

But he doesn't acknowledge it with words; he switches to talking about the actual job, the cover conversation, whatever it was. He leans over, looking down at her, and asks, "You think that I'm upset because I'm gonna let this guy kick my ass?" Sophie gives him a look, a look that clearly shows that she's unhappy with his diversion, even though part of her is wondering if it really was a diversion, and that they weren't back to the boyfriend thing again. But her annoyance is gone just as soon as he opens his mouth again, and the words reveal more meaning behind them. Meaning she can at least understand.

There was a breath, a slight sound of defeat before he tells her honestly, "I learned a long time ago that you can't control the violence."

Sophie watches him, and she knows she stopped breathing. She can't tell if he's talking about himself, or if he's talking about her. Maybe she doesn't want to know.

"I can take the punishment, it's what I do."

Okay, him, now they were definitely talking about him and the after effects of… everything, all of it. He looks at her, and she can feel her stomach drop. She's nervous all of a sudden, just by the way his eyes connect with hers, portraying something she doesn't know that she's ready to see. And it was worse, god it was so much worse when he opened his mouth again.

"But what I need to control is not out there," he tells her, and she licks her lips in nervousness, waiting for the last bit of that sentence, though she doesn't know if she's ready to hear it. He touches his heart, looking her straight in the eye and says, "It's here." He's looking uncomfortable, his eyes shifting, like some internal struggle is going on before he admits in a low voice, "Always."

She looks down, not knowing how to take that, how the hell she was even supposed to take that? What did that even mean? She knows what it could mean, she's not stupid after all, but it was just… too much. She looks up at him again, their eyes meet, and she gives him a little smile. Just… that she gets it. She wants him to know that much. But she just can't… think about it right now. So she turns, walks away, and just leaves him there in the ring, staring after her.

Fuck.

"You're eating all the oreos," Parker complains to her a couple weeks later, watching Sophie just continuously stuff her face. Fuck it if she got fat, she was just stressed out. Everything stressed her out recently. She's surprised her hair hasn't turn grey and just fucking fell out.

"Hungry," Sophie mumbles, crumbs falling from her mouth. Shit, that was ladylike. Parker just cocks an eyebrow at her as she brushes the fallen pieces off her blouse.

"Are you pregnant?" Parker asks bluntly, and it makes Sophie cough on a cookie.

"What?!" Sophie asks through her coughing fit. "No!"

"Well I don't know, you're eating everything in sight and you're starting to get fat," Parker tells her, sitting next to her on the couch. Then she sticks out her pointer finger and pokes Sophie's stomach as if to prove a point. Sophie slaps her hand away. She is not going to _poked_ like the bloody Pillsbury dough boy.

She's regretting inviting Parker over.

"Parker, what did I tell you about the fat comments?" Sophie says angrily, offended now as she looks down and sizes up her stomach. Shit, she was getting bigger. She really needs to stop binging.

"Sorry," Parker says, and lets out a little breath, her eyes rolling up as she tries to think of what it was that she was supposed to say, then monotones, "That dress doesn't make you look fat."

"That's not—" Sophie tries, but stops herself halfway through. Nevermind. She had made some progress with the girl, not much, but some, and right now she didn't want to deal with teaching her appropriate responses. She sighs, pushing the cookies away from her. She was done.

Parker grabs the package eagerly. "So if you're not pregnant, why are you eating everything?"

"I stress eat," Sophie tells her in a flat voice, not looking at her, just staring at the wall.

Bollocks, she was getting _fat._

"Why are you stressed out? We're not even on a job, and the hospital one went over fine." Parker takes a bite of her cookie and stares Sophie down, like she's trying to study her. Sophie looks over at her, and takes the girl in. She's been the one who she's been the closest too ever since the team split up. They always talked, always hung out even when they weren't on a job, but she didn't know if she could quite trust Parker with… this sort of thing.

Especially because Parker doesn't have that mechanism that enables most people to not voice absolutely every bloody thought that floats through their brain.

"Parker…" Sophie starts, and Parker stops eating, the half bitten cookie still raised to her mouth. She chews slowly, obviously getting that this could be serious, and didn't want to interrupt with her crunching. "If I tell you something, can I trust that you won't tell a soul?"

Parker blinks, seemingly caught unaware by Sophie's trust in her. She nods, putting down the cookies. Attentive. Waiting. Sophie takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what to open with, but decided with the thing that was bothering her the most, something that was bothering her ever since Eliot implied his heart was involved in this entire ordeal:

"I think Eliot might be in love with me."

Parker blinks again, as if trying to process this information. She pushes the cookies away from her, apparently finding this a sign of attentiveness. "Because of the sex?" she asks finally.

Sophie sits up straight, looking at her like she didn't understand what just came out of her mouth. "W-What?" she stutters, her brain successfully not seeming to work. "How did you… how the _bloody hell_ did you know about _that?!"_

Parker isn't taken aback by her outburst, just looks at her like it's obvious. "When you came downstairs after you were walking funny, I could see really light bruises on your arms. I thought he beat you up, but you acted like everything was normal. People don't try to act normal around people that kick their ass; if he did, you would have went crying to Nate anyway. Plus, people try to act normal around people they had sex with, when they don't want other people to know."

Sophie just looks at her curiously, "How do you… I mean, how did you come up with that conclusion?" It wasn't that she was wrong that was the problem, it was the fact that she was _Parker,_ and that she was actually _right._

"The normal/sex thing?" Parker asks, and Sophie nods. Parker shrugs. "TV." Then a smirk at Sophie, "See, it doesn't fry my brain like you said. Taught me something."

"Right."

Sophie takes another breath and tries to get back to the conversation at hand, "And, I don't know, if it's about the sex thing. The sex wasn't exactly… emotional."

"Are you into bondage?" Parker asks, in that irritating way that she does that can make your brain turn to mush in a matter of minutes.

"NO! Parker, can we just… not talk about the specifics of the sex? Please," she asks, knowing her face is starting to flush red. She grabs another cookie. Fuck it, what's another kilo?

"Sorry, just asking cause you were all beat up."

Sophie tries to take a patient breath, will herself to get through this conversation, only because she knows she needs to talk about this with someone. She needs to get stuff out there, because right now, inside, it was suffocating her. And apparently making her be well on her way to being the size of Mrs. Claus.

She puts down the cookie before it even reaches her lips. Damnit.

"What about the boyfriend?"

"What?" Sophie asks, trying to tune back into what was happening. Oh, right. Sophie shrugs. "I don't know, things have been off between us lately." Her eyes shift, looking down at the cookies again. She didn't want to talk about Stephen. It's been weeks and still things weren't back to normal. Still he couldn't just… get over what she said. What she asked of him.

"Are you in love with Eliot?"

"NO!"

God, Sophie hated how she always does this. Just keep springing up questions like this that she isn't ready for. Parker tilts her head, peers at her, and observes, "But you think he's sexy."

Sophie's eyes snap up to look at her, and she defends, "You have eyes, don't you?" Clearly the man is sexy, that's not the pressing issue at the moment.

Parker just shrugs, leaning back against the couch as she grabs the cookie that Sophie left lying there previously. "I'm not into white meat," she tells her, and Sophie feels the need to divert this conversation away from her, just because she's suddenly become uncomfortable with it.

"So have you fucked Hardison yet then?"

Parker drops her cookie into her lap.

Okay, Sophie really didn't have to put it like that, but she needed to say something that would fuck with Parker's head the way Parker was fucking with hers. Parker blinks, taking in the question, and decides instead that today was not a good day to hang out. She stands up.

"I need to go." A pause. "Somewhere… else."

Of course she did. Sophie just sighs, and lets her go. That conversation didn't help, not really anyway. She didn't get jack shit on insight when it came to if Eliot was in love with her or not. Maybe she was taking that part all wrong, after all. It's not like they were exactly speaking bluntly, so really what he said was all up to her interpretation.

But what the hell did that say about her if she interpreted it into meaning that he's in love with her?

He could have meant that yeah, he did have emotional feelings for her. He cared for her. They were a family after all. He cared about her and that's why it made it weird. He cared about her, and he was trying to control himself from doing it because that's what made him feel bad about what happened.

Shit. Maybe she did take this all wrong.

Months went by. Stephen broke up with her, something that devastated her but also something she already knew was coming. He spewed all this rubbish about how he doesn't really know her, and yes, maybe she didn't give him her real name. Maybe she didn't tell him what she really does for a living. But she never lied about anything else.

Sophie had convinced herself that Eliot wasn't in love with her after all, which made it easier to go to work. She didn't dwell on why she might have thought that, but just accepted it as just a minor freak out. She took the conversation the wrong way, but she understood it now.

Not that it made it any better in the long run.

Her nights were still filled with moans echoing off of the walls of her bedroom, fantasies of being tied up, violated. The fantasies got worse, more intense, more degrading, and each and every time she thought of the sick little things she wanted done to her, she would cum with Eliot's name falling from her lips.

She was in trouble. She could barely get through the day without looking at Eliot and her mind being filled with all her late night fantasies. It wasn't healthy, she knew that. It really, really wasn't. She should be able to function, be able to do what she's supposed to do and not bloody think of sex _all day long._ And as if that wasn't bad enough, things got worse.

Nate tried to kiss her.

She just couldn't handle it, any of it, anymore. She needed space, needed some time to breathe, clear her head… so she just left. Up and left and didn't even say goodbye to anyone, not properly anyway, and it seemed to hurt Parker especially, really badly.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Parker, please! Don't hang up!" Sophie yells desperately into the phone. There's a long pause, and Sophie's wondering if she just missed the click of the line going dead. Then finally:

"You just… _left."_

Sophie can feel her heart breaking just by the tone Parker used. So betrayed, so hurt, so angry, so upset. She knew she shouldn't have done that, Parker's… fragile. Even though she'll never admit it. Sophie sighs, "I know… I know I did. I'm…" but she couldn't say the word. Choked up in her throat. Damnit. "I should've told you," she says instead.

"Come back."

"I just… can't, Parker. Not now. I'm so…" Sophie sighs, flopping down in the chair in her hotel. She looks out the window at Big Ben. London. It used to feel like home. But nothing has felt like home since she's been with those people. Home is where they are, no longer a place. "I'm fucked up," she admits to her quietly.

Parker apparently doesn't know how to respond to that, because there's silence for awhile on the other end of the line. "Just tell Eliot that you want him."

"Tell Hardison you want him."

A beat. "Fine," Parker says, accepting her counter and taking the loss on that point. "Then fix whatever's broken."

"I'm not a machine, I can't just get tinkered with and everything goes back to normal," Sophie tries to explain, but Parker giggles. Sophie's confused, then rolls her eyes, holding back a smirk. "You know what I mean."

"What's wrong with you?"

Sophie purses her lips together, looking down, cradling the phone to her ear. She doesn't know if she can tell Parker this. "It's… complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it."

"It's embarrassing."

There's a pause, then Parker admits very bluntly, "I farted in front of Hardison yesterday."

Sophie blinks and sits up, trying not to laugh at how absurd that one sentence was, "What? How is that relevant?" But she can't help the grin that's forming on her face. It may be juvenile, but it was kind of funny.

"I just told you something embarrassing," Parker explains, as if she should have gotten it on her own. She does this little patient sigh; mocking the one Sophie gives her so many times. "Now tell me yours."

"Parker, this goes a little bit farther than farting in front of someone. Everyone does that."

"Sophie," Parker says in a flat voice. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

Sophie sighs, pinching her eyes with her fingers, trying to stop the forthcoming headache. "I just… what happened between me and Eliot wasn't just sex." She's met with silence on the other end of the line, and she knows Parker's waiting for her to finish. It takes her a bit, trying to find the words, "He… I mean I… I let him, I _wanted _him to…"

"Spit it out."

Jesus. Parker and her tact. "I made him practically rape me, okay?" Sophie admits, her voice filled with self loathing. She closes her eyes as she feels her face burning red. She just wanted to die, right where she sat. Least she'd go out with a view.

There's a long pause. Finally Parker says, "That's it?"

"What do you mean _that's it?"_ Sophie asks, opening her eyes. She doesn't understand how Parker can be so casual about it. Did she not hear her properly? Did she not get it? "Parker, that's really fucked up! It wanted it all… violent and _degrading!"_

"You know what I like when I have sex?"

"I hardly see how_ that's_ relevant either," Sophie starts, but is interrupted.

"I like getting my clit bit. Like really hard. Really, _really_ hard." That makes Sophie wince internally. Jesus. She doesn't even want to think about that. But Parker isn't done, "Everyone likes weird stuff. If you want Eliot to rape you, then let him rape you."

Sophie's quiet for quite some time. Parker had a point, which was weird in and of itself. What was weirder is that the girl actually, on some level, actually made her feel a little bit better. But there was also the big other issue. "What if… what if he doesn't want to?"

"He did it before."

"Yeah but I… I dunno, I bloody conned him into it. It's what I do. Besides, I meant like… what if he doesn't want to do it with… me?" God, she was sounding like such a damn girl. What was happening to her? She's never been like this. Ever.

"You're hot," Parker says, as if in explanation, "Even I'd have sex with you." Sophie's eyebrows rose. She… what now?

"You don't really _want _to have sex with me… do you?" Sophie asks cautiously, like she isn't sure what's going on at the moment. With Parker, you can never be too sure.

"I don't think about it extensively, if that's what you mean."

"But you have thought about it?"

"Once." A pause. "Okay, maybe twice."

"Do you even like women?" Sophie asks, this whole bizarre conversation turning into something even more bizarre. How did they get to her fantasizing about Eliot to Parker fantasizing about _her?_

"I dunno, I don't think so. I've never had sex with one," Parker tells her, as if this is the most casual conversation the whole world. "But you're freaking out about fantasies, right? We all have them, and they don't have to make sense."

"I really didn't need to know that I was in one of your fantasies."

"Whatever, I'm not going to jump you," Parker tells her, and it makes Sophie smile just from the way she said it. Like she was making fun of her for being so pig headed. "And it was two. One involved tying you up."

"Parker, please stop." She didn't need to make that scenario active in her head right now. Mainly because the thought of being tied up appealed to her, and if she starts having fantasies of Parker and Eliot, she might as well just check herself into the freaking nut house.

"Okay, okay. But that's what I mean. I don't like you, I'm not going to go try to have sex with you, but sometimes things just pop into your brain." A beat, and a completely unrelated topic to her fantasy with Sophie, at least, she hoped. "I want to experiment with money torture."

Sophie doesn't want to know what money torture is. She's sure of that.

"You're confusing me," Sophie tells her, trying to think, get the thought of Parker and her out of her head. "You just told me to let Eliot rape me, but now you're saying what I fantasize about doesn't have to become a reality."

"No, I was trying to tell you that everyone thinks about stuff like that. And while that one of _mine_ doesn't need to become a reality, you already had yours with Eliot. It's part of your reality already."

"You're scaring me with your insight. I just want you to know that."

"TV is educational," she tells Sophie, and she can hear the grin on her face. Her and her damn TV. Sophie just stays silent; trying to process what Parker told her, and how to use it to fix her problem.

"Call him," Parker tells her. "He won't call you. Nate told us not to call you."

"Nate can sod off. You can call me anytime, Parker. I mean that."

Sophie can hear Parker smile, obviously feeling better as she tells her, "Okay, but if he yells I'm blaming you."

But Sophie doesn't call Eliot. She can't bring herself to. She picked up the phone so many bloody times and found his number, but couldn't hit the call button. She'd put it down, pace a couple minutes, sit down, stand up, pace, try again, fail. It was really repetitive, and it was driving her slightly mad. She's never had this problem before, and she can't figure out what's wrong. How to fix it.

Besides, she just didn't know what to say to him. How do you even start a conversation like that? "Hi Eliot, I know what happened with us was almost a bloody year ago and everything, but wanna have another go?"

It sounded stupid. It_ was_ stupid. Wasn't it?

She's accepted her rape fetish for the most part. Parker did help with that. She still thinks it's a bit screwed up, and something she should probably be ashamed of, but it was there, and it wasn't going away. If she couldn't do anything to change it, then why even bother trying? So it wasn't that that was bothering her anymore. It was the fact that she wanted to do it with Eliot. Again. Repeatedly. Multiple times.

But she doesn't know if she can even get into this thing with Eliot. They work together. Well, at least they did work together until she ran away like some kind of pussy wanker. What if things go bad, or worse, what if things go… better? She's already afraid she's starting to have some kind of feelings for Eliot, it's the only way she can rationalize the fixation. Because it's not just the sex, it's never just the sex she fantasizes about. The main focus isn't what he's doing to her, what he's making her do. The main focus is just that… its _him._

Shit.

She almost jumps out of her skin the day the phone rang and she saw Eliot's name flashing on her screen. Parker had called the day before, worried about a job, worried about herself and how Hardison, apparently according to Eliot, was going to "screw it up". She hadn't called back yet to tell her how it went. Thinking the worst, she picks up the phone in a rush, "Is Parker alright?! Hardison? Everyone??"

"What? Yeah, they're fine."

A sigh of relief, then nervousness and worry seem to invade her stomach, making her feel almost ill. She sits down, trying to control it. Something is really off with her lately. "Is this… is this about the job? Or…?"

"Fuckin' job," Eliot says, and Sophie doesn't have to be there to know that he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Hardison's being a little—"

"Eliot, he's young," Sophie starts to explain, trying to tell him that he's overenthusiastic, and yeah maybe he's prone to mess up because of that, but it ain't like the worlds ending. But she's interrupted half way through.

"I know. He's driving me crazy."

She sighs. This isn't the conversation she wanted to have with him, but none the less she was glad they were having it. A conversation at least, real words being exchanged. They barely talked anymore, even before she left. Sure, shit that had to do with the job, just like this was, but nothing… meaningful. After the conversation in the ring, they both apparently just tried to ignore it. Take it as whatever it was. Closure. Try to, anyway. Though it seems Eliot got more closure than she did, since she's the one that ran away after all.

And even though this wasn't meaningful, she hadn't heard his voice in weeks. She missed the sound of it. She liked how everything he said was always low, gruff, manly, even a bit angry. It was sexy.

God, that was lame.

"Eliot, you just have to trust him. Trust _them._ And if things go south, they trust you to help them out of it. We all always have."

"How? Huh?" he asks angrily, "I'm backup, they can't rely on me."

Jesus. He's just mad at the whole situation. "You might be a lot of things Eliot, but unreliable isn't one of them. That's not who you are and you know it, so don't feed me that bullshit."

A pause, and then he lets out a little reluctant, "Alright."

"Furthermore," Sophie continues, just trying to keep him on the line. "The last thing you're going to do is stand by if Hardison's in trouble. You might talk a lot of rubbish to him, _about _him, but you care about him, and you know it."

"ALRIGHT," Eliot stresses, and Sophie quits. He gets the point. There's another pause, and she knows she needs to say something before they hang up. She's been sitting over here forever, trying to think of what she would say to him if she could only bring herself to call him. And maybe she didn't call him, maybe he called her, but here was her chance none the less.

"Look… call me… anytime, okay?" It's all she could get out, and she hated herself for that. He calls, finally he calls, and all she can do is play the mother of the team from a distance. Fixing problems, stopping fights. That's not what she wants to talk to him about.

Another pause, and it feels like forever to Sophie. "Hey…" he says finally, softly. She waits, hoping he's gonna say something that has to do about just… something. Anything. "Thanks," is all he says though, but he actually sounds like he means it. She's about to say something, but he leaves her with: "Don't tell Nate I called."

Nate.

Nate came by; one week later he was there, standing in her hotel room, asking her to come back. But she just couldn't. It was ridiculous, but that time it wasn't even about Eliot. It was all about Nate. Her feelings for him weren't completely _gone_, and it just angered her that even after everything, with how much he clearly wants her now, he still can't even bring himself to say the damn words.

Not that if he did that it would change anything. She can't be with him, at least not now. Not while she was constantly thinking about Eliot. It wouldn't be right.

So she sent Tara. Tara, who… god, there was so much history there. So many good times, so many bloody bad ones. Tara owed her a favor, and she cashed in. It was as simple as that, but at the same time, so_ very_ not that simple…

"I thought you died," Tara says flatly, her response to picking up the phone and being greeted by Sophie's voice on the other end. Sophie winces; she knew she might get something like that.

"Surprise?"

Tara's mad at her though, she can tell. She can never hide anger unless she's on a grift. Hell, she can barely hide any of her own emotions unless she's on a grift. One thing that separated the two of them, at least until recently. Sophie seems to be a complete emotional mess now. "What do you want?" she asks.

"Well for starters, a 'hi, how are you, how have you been,' might be nice," Sophie tells her, eyes narrowing. Just cause she's pissed, doesn't mean she has to be outright rude.

"You haven't said word fucking one to me in two years, up and disappeared from Chicago, not a call, not anything. And you _expect _something like that from me?" She scoffs, and Sophie knows she's tapping her foot. She always does that when she's annoyed. "Clearly you never knew me at all."

Sophie sighs, pursing her lips together. She felt guilty, and she hates feeling like that. It eats her up inside. "I just… I had to go to LA for a bit."

"And that explains not calling, how exactly?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't understand," Sophie tells her honestly. She picks at her fingernails, worried. She knew this wouldn't go well, but she didn't think it would be this bad.

Damn, she just chipped her polish.

"Sophie, when you decided to give up the life you had to pursue your acting career, _that _I didn't understand." There was a pause, and she finishes, "But I was still your friend, wasn't I?"

"Yeah," Sophie says, feeling awful. "But this was…"

"Was what? Just tell me. What? Did you go off and kill someone?"

"No!" Sophie exclaims. She's never done a hit on anyone, god. That's not her. "It's just… different," she tries to explain. "I'm back in the game. Least, I was. Not at the moment. I just… it's completely different this time."

"Are you shitting me? You didn't call cause you didn't want to tell me that you started grifting again? What the fuck is that?"

"That's not it… exactly. I.. I started, you know, stealing to… help people." There's a really long pause, and Sophie feels like she needs to explain it more in depth. "Giving away the money to people that needed it." The pause is getting really long, so Sophie asks, "Tara?"

"I'm sorry, I think I just had a stroke."

That makes Sophie smile a little, just picturing Tara's reaction. "See? I was afraid you wouldn't get it."

"I _don't _get it. Did you fall and hit your head? I told you not to wear the six inches."

"It gets worse," Sophie tells her, knowing this is gonna be the part where Tara might fall down. Not wanting to be the cause of an accident, she asks, "Are you sitting down?"

"Now I am. What?"

Sophie takes a breath, "I worked with Nathan Ford."

There was a very long pause this time. "You… are so screwed up. I hope you know that. He's… he's a fucking insurance guy, Soph. He busts people like us. Hell he chased you forever."

"Trust me, I know. And he isn't with IYS anymore."

"So what? You two just ran around, fucking righting wrongs and all that Robin Hood crap? Who the hell _are _you?"

"It wasn't just the two of us," Sophie tells her, trying to explain the fucking unexplainable. She still doesn't even know how this whole thing got started. "You know um, well, you've had to have heard of Parker, right?"

"Parker…" Tara thinks. "Parker Frost? No, I heard he's in jail. Parker… wait, _Parker?_ You mean that crazy broad? You ran with _her? _Word on the street is that she stole the Hope Diamond just for shits and giggles, _then put the damn thing back."_

"She's not crazy," Sophie defends, but Tara snorts. "Okay fine, maybe a little," Sophie admits. She still doesn't understand how Parker put that diamond back herself. "But she's sweet. Adorable, really. Bloody amazing thief."

"Sounds like you have a crush."

"Sod off, she's just my friend," Sophie says, rolling her eyes. "Have you ever heard of… actually no, you wouldn't have heard of Alec Hardison, he's a computer guy. I know you don't get into that scene. But he's adorable too, in his own way. Real enthusiastic. Uh…" a catch in her throat as he says his name, "Eliot Spencer?"

"Sounds familiar, but I can't place it."

"Hitter." Tara makes this little sound, and Sophie's not sure if she's supposed to take that as a yes or a no, so she just continues, "He's…" shit, how can she describe Eliot? "Built, strong, bit angry all the time, but he's got amazing control over it. He's… he's a bit beautiful."

"Okay, see now _that_ sounded like a crush."

"Look, I need a favor," Sophie says, choosing to ignore her comment. She didn't want to talk about Eliot, not right now. But what she said makes Tara scoff.

"Oh, so _that's_ why you called. Figures."

It took convincing, a whole hell of a lot of convincing until Tara said yes. She had to explain that she did still think of her as a friend, that she just had a bad lapse of judgment, which Tara called an understatement. It took awhile, too damn long, and she finally had to use the 'you owe me from Moscow' card, and that's what seemed to seal the deal, even though she wasn't thrilled about it. And from what she found out about a week and a half later, neither was the rest of the team.

"She called me adorable. ADORABLE!" Parker yells at her on the phone. Sophie holds it away from her ear and winces. God, Parker can really shriek.

"Parker, I was the one that called you adorable, she just repeated it," then she pauses. "Apparently." She really should have told Tara not to tell anyone anything she said about them. God, she hopes she didn't tell the rest of them what she said. Especially what she said about Eliot.

"Well you're allowed to call me adorable, I _know _you," Parker protests. "Even though I'm not adorable. I'm not a chia pet, I'm a human being."

Sophie ignores the chia pet comment, though only cause she has no idea what the hell it is. "How's everyone else taking it?" Sophie asks, wary of the answer. Fresh blood apparently didn't seem very welcome, not that she could blame them.

"Nate doesn't care cause you said it's fine. Eliot's being grumpy about it. Hardison keeps giving her the evil eye," Parker tells her, then with a slight whine in her voice asks, "Why can't you just come back?"

"I just… can't right now."

"Will you just talk to him? Seriously. You're being really stupid."

"It's not just Eliot, okay? There's… something else." She probably should have told Parker this sooner, but she didn't really know how. She was still trying to figure it out herself.

Parker pauses, and Sophie can tell she's worried it's her or something. But it could never be Parker. Parker was sweet, even though she probably didn't think so herself. She's been there for her through this, and she'll always love her for that. "Like what?" Parker asks.

Sophie sighs before she admits slowly, "I don't… know who I _am_ anymore." Because she doesn't. That conversation she had with Nate in the graveyard, right before he tried to kiss her… it struck something in her. She didn't dwell on it; after all she was still too busy running away just because of the situations with Nate and Eliot. But now she's been thinking, been thinking about it _a lot_ and it's just… it's all so messed up.

"You're Sophie Devereaux," Parker answers her factually, and like that fixed everything in some grand way. "Now come home."

"That's not even my name."

"So? Parker isn't my name either. A name doesn't make who you are," Parker tells her, annoyed. "If I change my name to Waffles right now, is that gonna change who I am? No. In fact, you know what? I'm gonna call you Waffles. Is that okay, Waffles? Oh no, did you just magically morph into someone else? I didn't think so."

Parker had an entire rant going on there, but Sophie just had to ask about one thing, amusement tinted in her voice: "Waffles?"

"I'm eating one, first thing I could think of." Sophie smirks, but Parker take a breath and goes on, "Just please come back. I need to talk to you."

"You're talking to me now."

"But it's not the same, and I need to tell you about me and Hardison's almost-moment."

That makes Sophie sit up straighter in her chair. "Almost-moment?" she asks, wanting to know the details. That was news, that was _good_ news, and she welcomed good news.

"Yeah, like a moment only not really. Almost."

"I know what it means, Parker. Tell me what happened."

"No, not till you come back."

"Parker, I'm not coming back until—" she was going to say until she was ready, until she's figured things out; who she is, what she wants. But apparently Parker decided to take it as 'until I get Eliot.'

"Eliot!" Sophie hears Parker exclaim, and her own eyes go wide as she hears Parker say, "Here, Sophie wants to talk to you." God, she hopes he wasn't there the whole time. Sophie can only imagine her literally shoving the phone into the man's face, only because he heard:

"Alright, I got it. Just get off of me Parker, shit."

Sophie can feel herself holding her breath, so she lets it out in a rush as she hears Eliot ask, "Sophie?"

"Hi."

That's the only thing that made it out of her mouth. She didn't know what else to say, and the long silence afterwards proved that. "Uh, what's up?" Eliot asks awkwardly, "Parker said—"

"Parker's just… she's being Parker," Sophie tries to explain, and she's fidgeting in her seat. She was nervous again, when the hell did she get this way around anyone? This is bordering on ridiculous. "Um, how are you?"

"Fine, all things considered."

"Tara?" Sophie asks, hoping that's what he's talking about. She didn't want him to be talking about her. Talking about her leaving. She didn't want to know what he thought about it.

"You could have just told us she was coming."

"You wouldn't have trusted her, wouldn't have thought she was good unless she proved it to you," Sophie tries to explain, glad that that really was what he was referring to.

"Still don't trust her."

There's a long, awkward silence, and Sophie knows she needs to say something. "You never called," she says, then wants to slap herself for how lame that sounded. Out of all the things to say, why did she have to say the one thing that makes her sound like she's fourteen year old, pining away? Really. Bloody stupid.

"I just… ain't got nothin' to say. I guess."

"Oh."

There's another long pause, and Sophie's trying to figure out what to say, until she hears Eliot exclaim, "Parker, will you stop breathing down my damn neck? Gimme some space. Damn."

"She's just worried. She wants me to come back," Sophie tells him. She always has to explain Parker; no one else seems to get her.

"We all want you to come back."

Sophie bites her bottom lip, and she curls herself up into a ball on her couch, cradling the phone. She wasn't expecting that, at least not from him. "It's just complicated," she tells him.

"Leaving cause of Nate don't solve anything, he's always gonna be a prick— Parker, I can see your shadow behind the door. Go."

Sophie had a laugh at that, just a little. But then she gets serious. It wasn't because of Nate, and she doesn't want him to think that. "Eliot, that's… that's not why I left. Not all of it anyway. There's so many other things."

"Then get to fixin' it. Get your ass back here."

"I need to talk to someone before that can happen."

"Then damn well talk to them. Shit, do you need me to state anymore obvious things for you, Sophie?"

Sophie scoffs, "Fuck off, seriously."

But she knows that made Eliot smile, she can hear it in his voice when he says, "If swearing at me makes you feel any better, swear away. Ain't got nothing better to do then be abused by some woman halfway across the damn world."

"You're a dick," Sophie tells him, but she has a smile on her own face. It's probably twisted that apparently they both feel happier calling each other names, but whatever. It makes it feel like normal, makes it feel like before.

"Just talk to them, Sophie," Eliot tells her seriously. "If it ain't Nate, who the hell is it? That boyfriend you had? I can go track the bastard down for you if you want. Kick his ass if it's required."

That makes Sophie smile, even though she's never been one to condone violence over things like that. But just that he's offering to do that for her made her a little happy. "No, it's not Stephen" Sophie tells him, and then she sighs. She puts her hand over her eyes, lying back on the couch as she decides to just fucking go for it finally and admits in a really small voice. "It's… you, Eliot."

There's a really long pause, before Eliot bursts out with, "Parker, I swear to god I'm going use your money to start a bonfire if you don't give me five fucking minutes of peace!"

Sophie just waits, holding her breath. This was tantalizing, waiting. Finally Eliot must have gotten Parker to leave, because he turns back to the phone. "Then… I don't know, fuckin' talk to me." It's said quietly, hesitantly.

"I can't do this over the phone," she tells him, and the terrified feeling was shooting up her spine, making her need to get up. So she does, and she starts pacing. She just needs to _move._ Shit, she's become some sort of… insane person, hasn't she?

"Is this about…?" Eliot starts to ask, but already knows she knows what he's talking about so he switches to, "That was like… a fuckin' year ago, Sophie…" it's said slowly, quietly, and in a tone that Sophie can't decipher, but she decides that the way he says it doesn't sound good.

Sophie just wants to die where she stands. Have something fall out of the sky and just save her this humiliation. The way he said it, it was like because it was so long ago that it was just over for him. How can it be over for him, and not over for her? How is that even fair?

"Right. Yeah, I know," Sophie says quickly, just trying to cover it all. She knows her voice is deceiving her though, but she can't stop it. No amount of grifting in the world can make her suppress how she feels right now. "Just, wanted to make sure you were over it. Cause I am, totally over it, I mean. So. That's great. Making sure we're on the same page with… all of that. Look, I gotta go? We'll talk later okay? Bye."

She hung up on him, just like that, not letting him get another word in edge wise. She collapsed on her couch, gripping the phone to her chest, staring at the wall. She could feel it, the choking in her throat, the tight feeling, the burning in her eyes. She was going to cry. Like some little girl she was going to cry about this. God. This isn't who she is! She doesn't cry over some man!

But that's a lie. She's cried over Nate so many times. But that was different, she was in love with him, and he just continuously broke her heart.

As she feels the tears start to fall, she wipes them away furiously with the back of her hand. That was the thing, wasn't it? She was in love with Nate. She had real feelings for him, not just sexual ones, and that's what made it hurt. Sex was just a game, always a game. It never mattered either way. But this… this isn't just about some sex game anymore. This isn't just using Eliot to act out some twisted fetish. She… she had feelings for him. And it was stupid, it was all so bloody _stupid_, because Eliot doesn't do relationships. She knows that, everyone knows that. This was all so pointless. She felt humiliated, rejected. Plain fucking stupid.

She was never going back there.

**TBC…**


	2. Part II

**PART II**

Three days later, Sophie was woken up by her phone. She slapped her hand around with her eyes closed, trying to find it. Her fingers found the empty candy wrappers, hearing the crunch as she slapped them. They found the empty container of Ben & Jerry's as she knocked it from her bedside table onto the floor. Then they found her cell, and she pressed the talk button, putting it to her ear without even seeing who it was. She was tired, depressed, she just wanted to go back to bed. "Hello?" she mumbles.

"Is he there yet?"

"What?" Sophie asks, stifling a yawn, rubbing the sleep out her eyes. She looked at the clock: seven thirty two. Damnit. Parker, of course. Only she completely ignores time zones. She closes her eyes again, not really caring if she fell back asleep with Parker still on the line.

"Eliot, is he there yet? Can you go get him? He's being stupid."

"What?" Sophie asks, more awake this time. She sits up in bed, trying to get the morning haze to get the hell away from her brain, but it was difficult. She sat up too quickly, tried to wake up too fast, and all it did was confuse her. "Eliot… what?"

"He left two days ago to go see you," Parker explains. "Told us he just needed to talk to you about something, but Hardison's been watching him on the street cams, and he's there, he's in London, but he keeps loitering around the McDonalds three blocks away. Been doing it every day. Eating a lot of fries, too. Do you think he'll get fat?"

"What?" Sophie asks, still trying to comprehend what was going on. Eliot, London, fries, fat. What?

"Yeah, like what Nate did when he came and saw you, only he didn't loiter that long. Me and Hardison were playing Where's Waldo Spencer, but Eliot keeps making it too easy cause he never moves."

"Nate loitered?" Sophie asks, still kind of confused. What the hell is going on? "Waldo what?"

"Jesus, go take a shower then call me back," Parker tells her, and hangs up on her, apparently not wanting to talk to her while she was half asleep. Sophie hangs up her phone and just stares at the wall. Shit, okay, a shower might be good. She's still confused.

Sophie stumbled into her bathroom, just trying to replay what Parker said as she disrobed and stepped in under the hot stream of water. Eliot was _here?_ Why? He obviously thought everything was just… over. Not that there was ever an actual anything, more like a one-time something, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he obviously thought that since it was a year ago that there was nothing to talk about. So why the hell is he _loitering _at McDonalds?

Sophie steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around her, coming back into the bedroom to call Parker back. But just as she picks up her phone, she hears something. It was faint, really faint, but it sounded like a knock on the door. Well, she knows at least it ain't Eliot, she's heard him knock on a door and it ain't nothing like that. He bangs against it like he's trying to knock the damn thing down. She makes her way over to check, figuring it was just room service, and looks through the peephole.

Her stomach drops. Then her phone rings.

But she ignores the phone, and just opens the door. Eliot's standing there, staring at her. Even with Parker telling her that he was in London, seeing him standing there was still kind of surreal. He's still staring at her, though not at her face, so she looks down at herself. Realizing she's still standing there in a freaking towel, she bites her tongue. Figures. As if she didn't embarrass herself enough already in front of him. "Sorry, I was just… I wasn't expecting you. Thought you were room service."

"I'm sure the guy that waits on this room is very happy if you answer it like that every morning," Eliot tells her flatly, and he just narrows her eyes, though she doesn't understand why that would annoy him. "You gonna get that?" he asks, indicating her ringing phone.

"What? Oh. Right," she says, and flips it open. Parker, probably thinking she drowned herself in her shower. Seriously, if she takes too long doing anything, Parker always thinks she's dead. Personally Sophie still thinks she's not over the con when she had to pretend to die. That seemed to mess her up a bit. She presses the talk button and tells her, "Parker, not now."

"Is he there?!" she asks excitedly.

"Yeah, I'll call you back." Sophie says, and hangs up, even though she can still hear Parker's rambling chatter as she does so. She's still just staring at Eliot, not believing he came all this way. Still not knowing _why_ he did.

"You gonna invite me in?" Eliot asks, shifting his weight between his feet.

"Oh, yeah. I just…yeah," Sophie starts to say, trying to figure out a reason for being the spaz that she was being at the moment. "Yeah, come in," she tells him, stepping aside. When he walks into her room, she closes the door behind him. She turns around from it slowly, absentmindedly chewing on her bottom lip. "Let me go get a robe…"

Eliot doesn't say anything, so goes into her bedroom and throws the first robe on that she comes across. When she comes back out, it's slowly, as if trying to test the waters. She still had no idea what this is. She leans against the threshold of the doorway and asks, "Why did you knock so quiet?"

"Thought you were asleep," Eliot responds, but he's shifting again. Uncomfortable with such a simple question.

"Usually people knock louder then, to get attention."

"Look, I got to the damn door okay? Gimme some credit. Shit," Eliot bursts out, and then does his frustrated move: running his hands through his hair. It makes Sophie smile, just a little bit. She missed seeing that.

They just look at each other, and Sophie's hands tighten around her robe instinctively. She was feeling a little uncomfortable too. "Why are you here?" she asks cautiously.

"You said you couldn't talk over the phone." He says it like it should be obvious. Well excuse the hell out of her.

"But we did talk," she tells him. That's what that whole exchange was, wasn't it? Talking? Sort of.

"No," Eliot corrects. "We started to, but then you went off and got all girly emotional and fuckin' hung up." He made some kind of erratic hand gesture, trying to signify her being an emotional wreck, apparently. It offends her.

"I didn't get all _emotional,"_ Sophie tells him, annoyed that he would classify it as that. "We talked, okay? I got your point." She pauses, remembering what she said to him. "And you got mine," she finishes.

"You didn't even let me finish my train of thought, Sophie! Shit," Eliot tells her, her eyes narrowing. "You fuckin' throw this damn bomb on me, tell me it's _my _fault you left, and then you expect me to have some grand fucking answer all in a matter of five seconds? I'm a guy, you gotta give me longer than _that."_

"I didn't say it was your _fault…"_ Because she didn't. She in no way said the world fault at all. She wasn't blaming him for anything, that wasn't what this was about.

"Damn well felt like it."

Sophie sighs and makes her way over to the couch, just needing to sit down. She brings her knees up to her chest and looks up at him. He just looks down at her, and she's not sure what she's even supposed to say now. She jumped the gun, obviously. She did get all girly and emotional and now… now they're back where they started. She knows nothing about how he feels. Nothing except that maybe it isn't completely horrible, he did come to a different country to talk about this after all.

And Eliot doesn't do well with talking. That's gotta say something.

"You just… could have said something better than what you said, is all," Sophie says finally.

"It _has _been like a year," Eliot points out to her. "And I don't get how you can read into a damn fact like that so… I don't know, like it meant I told you I fuckin' hated your or something."

"I'm a woman, we do that," she deadpans. Asshole.

Eliot doesn't say anything to that, but he takes the opportunity to sit on the other side of the couch. "So talk," he tells her. "Tell me what you need to say."

Sophie takes a breath, and tries to figure out a way of saying, 'I think I kind of like you, and also I like the way you fucked me, oh and also, by the way, you know I think about you every night while I touch myself, right?'

Shit. She isn't gonna say a damn single one of those things. She stays silent.

"Sophie, I fuckin' came all the way out here, so talk."

"I _know_ that," Sophie says, glaring at him. "God, give me a minute to think." Then she mocks him, "I'm just a woman, you gotta give me longer than that."

"You mean you haven't been thinking about it the whole damn _two months_ you've been out here? What the hell have you been doing? What the hell was the point of this little runaway stunt you pulled then?"

"You're an idiot," she tells him, just angry now. She is not a bloody runaway. She's not… she's fucking… shit. Okay, she is. That pisses her off more. And it's not a_ stunt_, for shit's sake. She's not trying to get attention, here.

"No, you're the idiot cause you're sittin' here trying to think of a way to tell me you wanna fuck me again."

Sophie looks at him, but his facial expression doesn't give anything away about what he thinks on the matter. "Don't be such a cocky bastard, it really doesn't suit you," she tells him, trying to keep her voice even. It was the first thing that came out of her mouth, just trying to avoid what the hell he just said to her.

How the hell did he even…? And if he knew, then why didn't_ he_ ever fucking say anything?

"Well if that ain't it, then fuckin' tell me what it is," Eliot tells her, but he can see something flicker across his face. Maybe disappointment, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared, so she couldn't be sure.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

"No, it don't matter, yet you won't come back. Right. Fuckin' whatever, Sophie. I didn't come all this way to play games with you."

He starts to get up, but she doesn't want him to leave. She can't have him leave like this, so she says, "Have you ever just… thought about it?" Her eyes flicker up to him, and they meet. She hopes she doesn't look as vulnerable as she feels.

That makes Eliot stop moving, and he just looks at her. "What we did?" he asks slowly, like he's not sure if that's even what they're talking about.

"Yeah." Bloody obviously.

Eliot shifts his eyes, and she can see him become uncomfortable with the conversation. He shrugs, "I dunno."

"How do you _not _know? It's a simple question."

"Fine, fuck. Yeah, okay? I've thought about it," Eliot says, sitting back down heavily on the couch. He runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated that he admitted that before she did. He turns to her, "Why?" He wants her to say it, she knows that.

But she avoids. "A lot?"

"You didn't answer my question," Eliot tells her, and Sophie fidgets uncomfortably. She starts to play with the bottom of her robe. She knows that she should say it, just because he did. She owes him that much.

"Just cause…" she starts, and averts her eyes away from him, staring at the far wall. "I think about it all the time," she admits in a small voice. Maybe she just should have said yes. She didn't need to go so far as to tell him all the time. All the time for a damn year.

"What do you do when you think about it?" Eliot asks, smirking. She knows he's just trying to turn this isn't something he can handle, cause Eliot is never good with feelings, but it still came right out of left field for her.

"ELIOT!" Sophie exclaims, and picks up the couch pillow to smack him in the head with it. That perverted little…

"Okay, alright!" Eliot exclaims, hands up in defense. "Sorry, habit. It just comes out sometimes." Sophie throws the pillow at him, just for good measure, but he can still see him smirking. So she counters with automatically:

"Probably the same thing you do when you think about it."

That makes Eliot's smirk disappear, and the shock colors his face at the return of the old Sophie. Then that's when she realized what she had to do to feel comfortable with all this again, to be the person she's always been when it came to this. To be able to handle this conversation like an adult: she had to be the person she was when they first had sex.

The confidence. That's what she was missing. That's why she's felt like such a mess when it came to Eliot, and she couldn't figure out why. She had lost her confidence. She became so obsessed with the fear that Eliot might not want her that she lost all confidence in her own abilities. The things she prided herself on.

She knows how to get a man, what the fuck was she doing sitting here crying and pining over some guy? Why didn't she just _do_ something about it? She might like him more than a fuck, but why should that be something that scares her?

"Well?" Sophie asks, looking at him with her eyebrows raised, feeling better about herself and situation. "Am I right or am I wrong?"

"Depends on what you think I do when I think about it," Eliot responds, looking at her like he's trying to figure out if she actually knows, or thinks that he thinks about that while he bloody cooks or something ridiculous.

"Fine. Bluntly? I think you wack off to the thought," Sophie tells him. That makes Eliot's shock disappear, and the smirk come back. But this time it's different, this time he's clearly happy with what's in front of him. Things were… almost normal again. Sophie never used to spare him from what she thought, unless she thought it would hurt him. That's how it's always been, how it's been with everyone. Maybe she was never this blunt with everyone, but it worked with Eliot.

"Then you're right," he tells her, and now he's looking at her in this way that makes her chest heavy and her breathing pick up. She knew what he was thinking; it was written all over his face. He's looking at her, imagining her playing with herself and thinking about him.

"You're starting to drool," she teases him, and he finally looks at her face and narrows his eyes. But she just smirks at him.

"It seriously took you a year to tell me you wanted to fuck me again?" he asks her, like it's something unheard of. But she just cocks an eyebrow at him.

"Didn't see you saying word one to me either."

"You told me you wanted to be forgotten," Eliot reminds her. She looks away from him, across the room, remembering. She did say that, she did want that. At least that's what she thought she wanted. "One time only show, right?"

"Yeah well, my intentions shifted," Sophie tells him, and her eyes find his again. She doesn't tell him she likes him, she knows he can't handle that right now. That'd be too fast. Sex he was fine with, he was good at that, but emotions was something else entirely.

"Getting that," Eliot says, and he's moving closer to her. Slowly, but it was still obvious. She stays where she is, looking him in the eyes the whole time, trying not to show how pronounced her breathing had become. She already knows where this is leading. It's been a year of them thinking about it. His hand is now on her thigh, pushing the robe up a little further, and her breath catches in her throat. "So tell me," he says in a low voice, his lips coming within close proximity to her ear. "When you fucked yourself at night… did you scream my name?"

"Yes," Sophie admits quietly, and closes her eyes as she hears him chuckle, his breath tickling her ear. She was submitting, she could feel it, and she knew he could too. It was like drifting into this state of mind, something very different than normal.

His fingers dig into her thigh hard, and she lets out a gasp of pain. "You want me to take you like a whore again?" he asks, and she can't help the quiet whimper that escapes her lips. He grasps her harder, firmer, and she cries out again softly. "Answer me."

"I want you to rape me," she tells him honestly, the need pouring out from each word she spoke. The excitement between each one. But then she opens her eyes, because his hand is gone, and he's sat back, away from her.

Shit.

"Sophie… I can't do that to you," he tells her, his voice heavy with something she couldn't figure out.

"No, I don't mean… shit, Eliot. I don't mean that I want you to do something that I don't want," she tries to explain, but he's looking at her like that didn't make any sense. "It's not rape, not real rape. Just… just a fetish. We can have, you know, a safe word."

"A safe word?"

"Yeah, like, bloody… I don't know. Banana."

"Banana," Eliot deadpans. Okay, she knew that was stupid, but it was the first thing she could think of. Like Parker and her freaking waffles. What is it with her and food? Maybe she should go to OA. "Why don't you just say, 'No Eliot, that hurts.' Or 'No, I don't want to do that,' or I don't know, fucking say the word 'stop'??"

Sophie flushes, and Eliot's looking at her like he's waiting for her to explain. "Because… I want it to feel like you are," she tells him. "I want to say no, stop, don't, that hurts, whatever. I want to scream, fight you off. I want to—"

"No," he tells her, shaking his head. "No, I can't do that. I can't pretend to be some sick _fuck."_

Sophie bites her tongue, feeling stupid for even suggesting it. "Fine, then just… don't. Do what you did before then."

"Why would you want something like that?" he asks her.

"I don't… I don't know, okay? I don't know, and I don't want to analyze it, alright? It's just what I want. What turns me on. Forget that I suggested it, just fuck me."

"Sophie, I'm not just going to _fuck you._ Not after something like that. That's really fuckin' sick."

"Fuck you!" she yells, humiliated and just pissed off now. Upset. She stands up, glaring at him. "Just get the _fuck _out of here, then!"

"Sophie, calm down, damn!" Eliot yells, getting up himself.

"No! Get out! GET OUT!" she screams and pushes him back. Just trying to push him out towards the door. She didn't want to be told she was sick, that she was fucked up. Not from him. It had taken her so long to accept that what she wanted wasn't completely messed up, and now he just threw that in her face. "Are you deaf?" she screams, when he doesn't move. "I want you to leave! Go back to Boston; just get the hell away from me!"

"Fuck, _damnit_ Sophie!" Eliot yells, this frustrated yell that signifies he's going to do something he doesn't want to do. And then it comes; he grabs her by her hair, making her scream, and throws her down on the couch, climbing on top of her. She's trying to push him off, but he holds her down. "Is this what you want?! Fucking just take whatever I want from you, be this sick little bastard that exploits you?!"

He's pinned her arms down, lying on top of her so he can use his forearm to hold both of her hands back. He uses his other to untie her robe, throwing it open and leaving her nude underneath him. He's flushed,_ pissed_, and he grabs onto her hip roughly.

"YES!" she screams, "Haven't you ever wanted something fucked up? Everyone does, don't they?! FUCK!"

"I don't want this," he tells her, still pinning her down, but not being rough anymore. He's hovering above her, out of breath. Hell, both of them out of breath. He's staring down at her, and she's glaring at him.

"Then tell me what you want," she says. "Anything, all those sick little things that go through your mind but you've never had the balls to tell anyone what they were so you could get them. _Tell me what they are!"_

"Why? You won't fucking do them," Eliot tells her, voice even.

"Oh," she says with a little challenging laugh, "You'd be surprised to find what I'd do for you."

Eliot looks down at her, but she doesn't flinch, doesn't even care that she just used the words "for you" in that sentence and what they implied. She just wants to know. She wants to make him understand.

But he's mad at her for even asking, and he gets off of her in a huff, "I ain't gonna fucking tell you that shit."

"Why?" she asks, sitting up. But he's starting to walk away, so she grabs him by the shirt and pulls with all her strength to make him fall back down on top of her.

"Damnit, Sophie!"

"Just tell me!"

"NO!"

"Why? You think I'll laugh? Think I'll tell you you're fucked up? I'm not like you; I won't bloody tear you down for what you like!" She's still holding on to him, she won't let him go. She was going to know.

"I didn't mean to—" Eliot starts, but just growls in frustration. His hand slams against the couch as he admits, "It's just gonna make me sound like a fucking _fag,_ okay?!"

That makes her stop, and she just looks at him. He won't look at her though. "If you want a man… I can't exactly help you with that," she says slowly.

"No!" he defends, clearly hating this conversation. "I don't want a fucking guy, okay? I was talking about pegging, damnit!" He pushes away from her, trying to make her let go of him, but she doesn't. "Fuck, Sophie just let me get up!"

"No," she says, and pulls him closer to her. "And will you look at me please? Do you see me laughing? No." But he can't look at her, he's ashamed, and she can see it. "Hey," she says softly, and touches his face gently, turning it to look at her. "If that's what you like, then that's fine. I'll go out and buy a big fucking strap on and nail you in the ass till you cum all over yourself, that doesn't bother me."

Eliot's staring at her, like he doesn't get how something like that can't bother her, because it clearly bothers him. "Just… all I ask is that you give me the same courtesy," she goes on. "I'll do whatever you want, any fucked up little thing you want me to do. Anything."

He still doesn't say anything, so she continues. "What else? Tell me what else you've thought about doing. Dirty little things, I wanna hear them." She bites her tongue softly, getting turned on just by the thought of him telling her all his fantasies.

"There's nothing else," he tells her quietly.

"That's a lie," she tells him, but it's soft, comforting. She can read lies, it's what she does. "Tell me."

Eliot takes a breath, but he wasn't relaxing like she hoped he would. He was still tense, still posed and ready for a fight. He was feeling exposed, vulnerable. She was trying to make this easier, but it's hard to help Eliot just let go like that. To trust her that she's not gonna throw this shit in his face. "Please tell me," she tries again.

"Fine. Fucking maybe _once_ I thought about watersports. Once, in goddamn passing. Fleeting fucking moment, okay?"

She doesn't pause, doesn't hesitate in her reaction, and just asks curiously, "Giving or receiving?"

"Giving," he admits reluctantly, but it's still tainted with a bit of a growl, angry still about the conversation. Still not trusting her. So she's going to fix it.

"Okay," she tells him, and starts to push him off of her. "Get up," she tells him, and as he does, she does too. She takes his hand and starts dragging him into the bathroom.

"Sophie, what the hell are you doing?"

"Proving something to you," she tells him. When she's in the bathroom she takes off her robe, throwing it on the toilet. She climbs in the tub and lies down. Cause hell, she didn't want to make a mess anywhere. He's looking down at her like she's gone insane, but all she says is, "Pee on me."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Sophie, I'm not gonna fucking—"

"Eliot, I'm lying here stark bloody naked for you. Fucking piss on me, now. I wanna feel it all over my body," she tells him, her eyes flashing.

She's not really into this, being peed on didn't exactly make her horny, but if it's what got him off, then fuck it. She was serious when she said she'd do anything for him. And it isn't just about kink. It ain't just about sex. She'd do anything for him, just because it's him.

He's just looking down at her, and she runs her hand down her body, over her chest, down her stomach, between her legs. "I'm waiting," she says.

"Seriously?" he asks, like this is supposed to be some kind of trick. "It was just fucking once, I don't even know if it gets my damn rocks off or anything."

"Don't I look serious? Now come on, drop your pants and have a go."

Eliot still looks hesitant, but his hands fumble with the button on his pants. He pulls them off, his boxers coming next. She's staring at him, and she bites her bottom lip at seeing his dick again, squirming a bit inside of the tub. He lifts his shirt over his head, clearly rather being naked than just pantless, and comes closer to her, standing over her.

"Sophie, you really don't fuckin' have to—" he tries again.

"Eliot, if you don't do this, I sure as _hell _will throw you down and piss all over your goddamn face."

Apparently those words did something to Eliot, because he gives in rather quickly after that, "Fine, shut the fuck up and just wait then." He grasps his dick, pointing it towards her stomach. Sophie did appreciate that it wasn't her face, even though she'd still probably let him.

She wants to be his dirty play thing. Always.

His domination coming back out to play makes her smile, and she lays back and waits. She closes her eyes, imagining her little scenarios in her head again, and how they all might finally come true. And then she feels it, hot and wet against her skin, and she moans from the feeling. It actually didn't feel so bad. She opens her eyes, and she looks at him, and he gives her this dirty little 'I own the hell out of you bitch' look as he moves it so the stream splashes across her tits.

"Mmm, Eliot," she moans out, closing her eyes again. She can feel it stopping, know he's shaking it off by the tiny droplets splashing on her, but she just lays there for him to look at. "You like that?" Her eyes open again, and she doesn't need him to say anything to know that it did something to him. His dick was starting to get hard, and she purses her lips.

"What was that safety word again?" he asks her, his hand sliding slowly up and down his shaft. But apparently it's rhetorical, because all of a sudden in a flash he's grabbed her by her hair again. She gasps, looking up at him. Vulnerable, needing him to violate her. "Remember it, cause you're gonna need it," he tells her, then throws her back. He reaches over and grabs the shower handle, turning it, making it spray her with cold water. She screams at the icy cold droplets beating down on her skin and he tells her, "Get cleaned up."

He walks out of the bathroom then, just leaving her in the tub. She scrambles for the hot water, trying to get it to at least a decent temperature. But once it is, and once she's got the soap in her hand and she's cleaning herself up, she can't help but smile. She knew he'd like it, obviously. Not because of the pee, or whatever. It wasn't about that. It was degrading her, humiliating her, and no matter how much he'll deny wanting to rape her, he can't deny he wanted to destroy her in a way. She was there; she saw the look in his eyes, saw how much it turned him on to control her, to be able to do anything to her. This was just another step in that. Pissing on her just cause he can. Pissing on her because she was next to nothing.

And because of that right there, him doing that to her turned her on a little bit. Something she never thought she'd be into, but like she said… it wasn't about the act. It was about _why_ that act was being done.

Though she still couldn't understand why he wanted her to put on a strap on and nail him in the ass. The reasoning behind that escapes her. But she'll do it anyway. Anything, if that's what he wants.

As she steps out of the shower, she grabs a towel and starts drying off. She's smirking to herself, knowing Eliot's probably sitting on the couch, jerking off, waiting for her. She wonders if she can sneak up on him. But all of a sudden her thoughts are interrupted by firm hands grasping her from behind. She screams in surprise, but a hand claps over her mouth. She's freaked out for a second, until it clicks in her brain what's going on, and she can't help but smile under his hand as Eliot drags her out of the bathroom, into the bedroom, and throws her down on the bed.

He was doing it. He was really doing it.

She screams, playing her role. He tries to grab her again, but she kicks back at it, connecting with his stomach. She knows he can handle it, knows he gets the violence, why she wants it, and he grabs her leg. "Shut up!" he yells at her, naked standing over her, trying to hold her down. "Shut the _fuck_ up you stupid little bitch!" He slaps her then, right across the face. It isn't hard; honestly she wishes he'd be a bit rougher than that. But it still stings, and she can't help but smile.

He rolls his eyes at her and stops trying to hold her down. "I'm pretty sure the whole point is that you're not supposed to look like you like it."

"Fuck you," she tells him, and kicks at him again, but he grabs her foot just in time. "NO!" she yells, slipping back into the role as the victim. He gets on the bed, straddling her wait to pin her down, trying to grab his arms. He gets one, but the other swings and connects with his chest, and she screams, "STOP! Please stop!"

She's loving this, she can't deny that. She's dripping already; she can feel it between her legs as it eagerly waits to be violated by him. She's panting, trying to fend him off, but he's stronger. God she loves how much stronger than her he is. He grabs her other hand and pins them above her head, leering down at her. "You're gonna look good with my cock down your throat," he tells her, and she tries to struggle again. She puts all her strength into it, knowing she can and he'll still hold her down.

"Please no…" she whimpers, begs him. But her body is deceiving her words, and she's trying to press her hips into him. Wanting it. Needing it. "I don't want to…" she says, her words coming out vulnerable, almost scared.

Eliot just laughs in her face, and roughly pulls her up towards the head of the bed. She screams again, tries to kick him, but his thighs are pressed around her legs, and she can barely move them. He holds one of her arms up, and Sophie looks behind her to see what she's doing. Then she smirks, she can't help it. He took the sash from two of her robes and hooked them t the bedposts. He lets go of one of her hands to tie the first one to it, and she uses the opportunity to scratch him.

He growls at her, almost fucking barks, his eyes looking at her dangerously. "I will _kill _you," he tells her, in this voice that makes her squirm in desire. Warning her. She plays into it, like she's scared, and she cowers a little, letting him do what he wants. One wrist is tied, then the other. He gets off of her, and she tries to kick him again, but he already knew what she was going to do so he grabs both of her ankles and pulls her down further on the bed, spreading her eagle.

She gasps in surprise, and her bindings tug as she gets pulled to the limit. She winces from the pain in her arm, but it's nothing she can't handle. "Please," she begs, chocking back a fake sob. "I have money, take it, take all of it, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"I don't want your damn money, bitch," he snarls at her as he crawls up her body, making sure to have a firm grasp of her legs the whole way so she can't kick him again. She struggles beneath him, until he's on her chest now, letting go of her legs because he knows she can't fucking kung fu or whatever weird shit and figure out a way to kick him when he's up there. He's astride her, his cock in her face.

Fuck, she wanted it in her mouth.

But he doesn't give it to her; instead he slaps her across the face with it, and then laughs at her. Dirty, degrading, humiliating her. It made her need it more. "Please," she whimpers. "I'll do anything, just let me go…"

"I'll let you go when I'm good and ready to let you go, and not a fucking minute before," Eliot tells her, and slaps her across the face with his cock again. She moans, she can't help it. And then her chin is in his hand, forcefully opening her mouth, sliding his dick into it. "Suck it like the whore you are, _do it!"_

Sophie pretends she's scared of him, scared of what he'll do if she doesn't, so she relents, whimpering the whole time. She's looking up at him, watching his eyes close as he rocks his hips against her face. "Fuck yeah, just like that. Be a good little bitch, _fuck…"_

She does everything she can to please him. It's been so long, and that's all she's been thinking about doing for the past year. She sucks him off like she's in some kind of contest, determined to be the winner. He's grunting, calling her a whore, a slut, a disgusting little cunt. She relishes in it, every degrading word spoken to her making her try harder, determined to make him cum in her mouth. She wants to taste him, _needs_ to taste him.

It's not long before he slams his hand against the headboard, his whole body shuddering and he emits one last, "FUCK!" before he cums, trying to pull his dick out so he doesn't do it in her mouth. But it's too late, he only pulls out halfway, and she keeps her mouth open, _wanting_ it, as he releases part in her mouth, and part on her face. She fucking loved it. She swallowed every drop she got, and he looks down at her, with this little smirk on his face, loving that she wanted it.

He slides down her body a little, just trying to come down from his high. He takes the edge of the comforter, brutally wiping her face with it. "Fuckin' look like a damn whore," he tells her, getting it off of her.

She doesn't say anything, just feigns fright, and tries to squirm out from underneath her. She pulls on her bindings, trying to get loose, but knowing she can't. He laughs at her attempts, and then he's sliding down further, positioning himself between her legs. She tries to kick again, screams, "NO! Not there!" but he holds her thighs down forcefully. Hard, bruising her. She gasps.

She's struggling, but his grip is firm, holding her pretty much in place. He's staring at her dripping wet pussy, and then his eyes snap up to her, full of hate and anger. Damn, he was so _good._ "Stop fucking struggling or I'll tie your feet to your hands, and I'm sure that'll fuckin' murder your back," he says venomously. "Do you want that, huh?!"

"No…" she says quietly.

"What was that? I didn't fucking hear you."

"NO!" she yells again, this time a bit more forcefully. He smirks at her, and all she wants to do is cum all over the man. Her clit was throbbing, begging for attention.

"You'll be a good little bitch, then?"

"Yes," she whimpers softly. She'll be a good little anything for him. He forcefully pushes her legs further apart, as wide as they can go, and then leaves them. She knows to keep them there. Then he's back to just _looking _at her, and it's bloody torture. She squirms.

"Stay still," he commands. "Stay absolutely fucking still."

She stops moving, and she got hit with a shit ton of desire. The domination, the control. She wanted to put up a fight, he _knows _that's what she wants. But he also know she wants to be controlled, and torturing her like this, not allowing her to move even the slightest bit, was turning her on more than words could describe.

His eyes meet hers, and then they look around the room. "You're kind of a fucking pig," he tells her, noticing the empty containers of junk food around them. Bollocks, she forgot about all that, didn't even pay attention, remember. She narrows her eyes, breaking character for that.

"Hey, fuck off. I was upset."

"Over me? I'm touched."

"Asshole."

"Stop breaking character," he tells her, and she just sneers at him before suddenly, as if it's a switch, she goes back to looking frightened by him. He looks impressed by how quickly she could turn it on again. He goes back to inspecting her. It takes what feels like forever, until his fingers slowly reach out to touch her. Too slowly. He's killing her. She whimpers again, trying not to move at all.

When he touches her, he doesn't even go near her clit, but it still makes her senses explode. She lets out a breath she didn't know she's been holding and she whimpers, "Please don't… please don't touch me there…"

"Shut up," he barks, using his thumbs to spread her open for him. Being put on display like this made her feel dirty. She wanted to push her hips towards him, and this not moving thing was seriously making her want to scream.

Then he runs his finger up her, and she can't stop the moan that falls from her lips. But then it's gone, and he holds up his finger to her, taunting her. "For someone who doesn't want it, you sure are fucking soaked."

Sophie just whimpers at him.

He wipes his finger off on her stomach, before out of nowhere his hands are underneath her thighs, and she's being lifted upwards. She screams from shock, yelling, "Please no! No, no please!"

"I said shut the_ fuck_ up!" he screams, right before his mouth connects with her heat, making her moan hard. The feeling of his tongue on her again made her go crazy, and him just holding her there in mid air made it even worse. She cries out, not being able to fake not wanting it, at least not now.

"God," she pants out, "Yes… fuck, I mean no, shit… oh god… NO…" she tries to get out, between moans, and Eliot's chuckle between her legs vibrates her in all the right ways. His tongue is working something like a bloody song between her legs, and she's pulling at her bindings, trying to get the leverage to work her hips against his face, feeling the buildup of her orgasm already.

But then he pulls away, dropping her to the bed so suddenly that it makes her scream in frustration. "FUCK YOU!" she yells. He's gonna torture her. Orgasm denial. If it wasn't so damn hot she'd beat the shit out of him for it. "God, you fucking little BASTARD," she screams, not being to help it.

She expected the slap when it came, but she keeps swearing at him, wanting him to hit her harder. But he doesn't, instead he just puts his hand over her mouth. Her muffled curses are only known by the anger in her eyes, and he just glares down at her.

"You wanna end up in the fuckin' river, bitch?!"

That makes Sophie stop. Okay, she remembers what she was now. She's still pissed, yet still so hot for him because of it. She shuts up, and he takes the hand away from her mouth. "That's fucking better."

She's panting hard, the need between her legs practically exploding. She wants to yell again, but controls herself. Then his hand is between her legs again, cupping her roughly, and she cries out, "No! STOP!" as she gets back into character.

She can feel his fingers getting completely soaked, and then he's hoisting her legs up as far as they can go, letting him have access to other areas. She knows where he's about to go, and it makes her squirm in anticipation. His fingers run down the crack of her ass, and then without any warning, he slips one inside of her fast. "NO!" she screams. "NO PLEASE STOP! PLEASE!" And then she starts to cry, scream and sob as she tries to get away from him, acting like he's violating her in the worse possible way.

But he stops, taking his finger out of her. "Sophie, fuck, don't cry, for shit's sake."

She lets out a sound of annoyance and rolls her eyes, looking down at him. "Don't be such a pansy, it's fake."

"Still, just don't. For real."

She makes a face, but relents. "Fine."

He grabs her again suddenly, his finger slipping back inside her that she can do nothing but what comes natural: moan. "Ummpff," she groans, eyes closing. But then she puts on that mask of fright, and starts screaming again, "Stop, please! Not there!"

But he doesn't listen, tells her to shut up, his finger pumping in and out of her, taking her, dirtying her. He slips in another one, and Sophie gasps from the feeling. It hurts a little, but not much. But she still screams, "STOP! STOP IT, IT HURTS! NO!"

Eliot doesn't break character, thankfully. She was worried for a minute that he would. Instead he snarls, "GOOD." His fingers are violating her with such force that it's making her pant, and then suddenly, with his fingers still covered in her own desire, he slips a third in.

_That _hurt.

"FUCK!" she yells. "BANANA. Bloody fucking BANANA!"

Eliot stops instantly, withdrawing his fingers from her. "Shit, sorry, too much?"

"Yeah," she pants out. "Too much too fast," she says. Her asshole hurts now. Fuck. She's looking at him, but then she watches a smile creep across his face, and then he laughs.

"What?" she asks.

"That safe word is so fucked up."

Sophie can help but laugh about it too. It really kind of is, but the hell with it. Screaming 'banana' might be weird, but it's a word that definitely won't come up during normal sex, so it's still a good safe word. "Just fuck me," she tells him finally. "Fuck the games, fuck everything. Just… fuck me. Please."

"Thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," she tells him. "And I'll make you do it again another damn day. But right now I… I just want _you_." Her voice cracks as she says, it giving away more than she wanted to wanted to admit. But he doesn't laugh at her feelings, doesn't pull away from them. He just looks down at her for a really long time, too long.

He doesn't say anything, but finally crawls up the bed and unties her. She lets her arms fall down, feeling really vulnerable all of a sudden. Not knowing how exactly he was taking that little admission. But what he does next surprises her.

He leans down, his lips capturing hers with a soft kiss, much softer than she's ever experienced from him. It makes her moan against his lips, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck, just wanting to hold on to him. He's kissing her with much gentler passion as he lies half on top of her, running his fingers through her hair, and then down to roam her chest as he sucks softly on her bottom lip.

God, this was new. She didn't even know Eliot had it in him to be like this.

She presses her body up against him, gasping as his lips leave hers and fall to brush against the sensitive flesh of her neck. She closes her eyes, her fingers digging into his back as she whimpers. He bites down softly, suckling her for a moment, before going lower, kissing down her neck, her throat, her shoulder. He's making her feel so many more things than just lust, and she doesn't want to let him go.

"Eliot…" she whimpers out, just needing to say his name. His hand is on her breast now, flicking his thumb over her hard nipple; making her gasp, press more into him. "God…"

He looks down at her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. She sees something pass across his face, another internal struggle as he tries to say something. "You're…" he starts, and shakes his head. She knows any emotional things are hard for him, so she's patient. Finally he looks back at her and tells her, "You're… beautiful, Sophie."

That almost makes her cry, but she suppresses it. She knows Eliot wouldn't be able to handle that, but that made so many emotions run through her that she couldn't stand it. This, all of this, it answered her question: he liked her. Shit, he fucking has feelings for her. She leans up, capturing his lips with hers, wrapping her arms around his neck. He groans softly, pushing her back down against the bed gently. Her fingers tangle in his hair, her tongue devouring every bit of him.

She's grinding against him, whimpering, panting now as she needs him to do it. Needs for him to make her his. But he stops, breaks the kiss, and she makes a sound of protest from the lack of contact.

"Condom," he tells her.

Right. She points to her purse, on the bedside table. He gets up, getting one, and then crawls back over to her. He opens it, unwrapping it before he slides it over his shaft. She spreads her legs for him and he gets back on top of her, kissing her again. She moans into his mouth, pressing her pussy against his dick, needing it inside of her.

He drops his head to kiss her neck again and she whimpers, "Please Eliot… please, I need you…" her voice was full of her messy pathetic desperation, and it makes him smile. But he doesn't make her wait, he holds himself up with his arms as he gets in position, and then he slides it inside her slowly.

"Oh god," she whimpers, her eyes closing, her fingers digging into his back. "Oh god, Eliot… oh my god…"

It isn't rough; he doesn't just slam into her like he did before. He slides in and out of her slowly, his own pants starting to mix with her moans. He buries his face in her hair, his breath tickling her ear. She rocks her hips against him, just panting his name with every thrust. There was so much emotion in this, so much feeling, and it was consuming her. She can't help it but just say his name, maybe just to convince herself that it was really him that's treating her like this.

It's slow, long, passionate. But as it goes on he starts to speed up, her too, needing release more than anything. He slams into her, and she cries out, "Yes! Harder!" Her nails are digging into his back, his grunts are right in her ear, and she just wants all of him. "Take me!" she tells him, gasping and thrusting against him.

"Fuck, Sophie," he pants out hard, his words strained as he approaches his orgasm. She still can do nothing else but say his name, over and over, crying out as he goes harder, deeper, filling her entirely.

"Oh _god!"_ she screams, feeling herself start to contract. It's like a rush, right to her head that's making her dizzy. She thinks she might faint, but she keeps on. "Don't stop Eliot, never stop!" she yells, and then her eyes are shut tight as she clenches around him, releasing a blood curdling scream.

He cums with her, riding her orgasm out with his own. He's swearing, gasping out her name, and when it's all over, he collapses on top of her, breathless and without words, just like her. She just lies there, eyes closed, feeling like she was on top of the bloody world. She smiles as she feels him kissing her neck and she snuggles into him.

She's never going to let him go. Ever.

**TBC...**


	3. PART III

**PART III**

"Tell me what happened," Parker says in a rush, bursting in through her apartment door. Sophie almost jumps a freaking mile; she swears she locked that thing. She turns to look at her, reminding her in an annoyed tone, "Parker, _knocking."_

Her and Eliot got on the next flight back to Boston after their day together. She just needed to come home, needed to be where it was familiar, warm. Eliot dropped her off at her apartment not more than twenty minutes ago, kissing her goodbye. Telling her that they'll go say hi to everyone in the morning. Apparently, Parker doesn't wait that long. She has no idea how the hell she knew she was home. Maybe she doesn't want to know.

"Sorry," Parker says in a rush, closing the door behind her. "Now tell me."

"Slow down, breathe. Go have a cookie or something, just let me settle in first, damn," Sophie says, finally able to sit down on her couch. She takes a breath, but Parker doesn't. She's practically on top of her suddenly, half on the couch and half on her, in her face.

"Come on, please?"

Sophie rolls her eyes, but smiles, liking that Parker's taking such an intense interest in her love life. Made them really feel like friends. "Fine, but get off of me, and take slow deep breaths. Don't want you to keel over. It'd be a bitch to clean up."

Parker gets off of her, but she's looking at her eager. "I want details."

"I am _not _giving you details, you perv," Sophie chides her, and Parker looks disgruntled from being told no. But she relents.

"Fine," she says. Then a beat, "By the way, you're not as fat as you were when you left."

"Thanks," Sophie says, taking her messed up compliment, knowing what she meant by it. She settles back against the couch, and is silent for a minute, enjoying torturing Parker for a brief moment. Then she smiles and says in this girly way she wishes never came out of her mouth, "It was _amazing."_

Parker squeals a little, excited. "Tell me, tell me!"

She's way too excited about this, but it makes Sophie smile. "He showed up at my door, all awkward and whatever. So was I. I dunno, we talked for a bit. Admitted some shit."

"You told him you wanted him to rape you?" she asks, pressing for more details.

"Yeah, but he… didn't take it so well," she tells him. Parker's face falls, feeling sorry for her. She continues though, "We got into this big argument, and then I made him tell me his dirty little fetishes to prove a point. Prove the point_ you_ showed me before: that we all want something fucked up."

Parker's eyes go wide, and she's hanging on ever word. "Ooh… what are his?" she asks, curious.

"I'm not telling you that." Parker pouts. "No, Parker," she says firmly. "It's his business, so just no." Parker sighs, looking disappointed. She wanted the dirt on Eliot.

Sophie continues with her little story, "So I did one of his… and then he did mine," she has this smile on her face, and it's making Parker smile.

"He did it then?"

Sophie nods, then she bites her lower lip in remembrance. God, this whole conversation was reminding her of herself back in high school, gushing over her crush to her girlfriends. Parker watches her, and asks, "What? What else? What's making you smile?"

Sophie purses her lips together, and Parker waits, eager. "He… he had sex with me." Parker looks at her like she's lame for building up something as simple as that. "No, you don't get it, Parker," Sophie tells her. "He was soft with me, he kissed me, told me I was beautiful. He did it all slow and passionate and… _god_," she practically moans in remembrance, closing her eyes. "He made me feel bloody everything."

"So is he the new boyfriend?" she asks her.

Sophie opens her eyes to look at her. "I don't know, we didn't really talk about that," she admits to her. "I want him to be."

"Obviously," Parker says. "You're turning into a mushy pile of goo on your sofa." Sophie flips her off, but smirks. So does Parker.

"So tell me about your almost-moment," Sophie asks, sitting up straighter, wanting to know what happened with her and Hardison.

Parker blinks, readjusting to the changed conversation. "Oh," she says. Then she rolls her eyes a bit and shrugs slowly, becoming self conscious. "I don't know, it was nothing."

"It was something to you," Sophie tells her, pointing out how she was acting. "Tell me."

Parker fidgets a little, shifting from side to side, bobbing her head a little bit before she stops and looks at her. "Okay. We were in this vault, and Hardison was about to get caught, so I pulled him into this little side storage thing in the middle of it. We were trapped in there, and it was really small, so he was all pressed up against me. And he was like… he was like this," and of course, because Parker doesn't understand boundaries, she's suddenly pressed up against her, their lips only a breath away from each other. "This close," she explains, looking down at her, her voice lower from the close proximity.

Damn her.

"Uh huh…" Sophie says softly, not being to help staring at her lips. God, too close. Too close for comfort. Too close because it's doing something to her, oddly enough.

"You have pretty lips," Parker observes, looking at them. Looking at them in a way that Sophie wasn't sure she wanted her looking at them.

"Parker, focus."

"And I kind of…" she continues, moving her head towards her, just slightly, but then she pulls it back. "My heart was going really fast, and it felt funny in my stomach. I was breathing really hard, and he was looking at my lips and…"

"AND??" Sophie asks breathless, not being able to take the suspense.

"….And then we fell through the floor." Parker says, sighing a bit, and climbing off of Sophie to sit back on the couch. She's disappointed, but Sophie sighs a little in relief from Parker climbing off of her. She couldn't deal with that, apparently.

"It just… caved in?" Sophie asks, hoping neither of them were hurt.

"Eliot did it, I knew he was going to do it, but still. He could have waited maybe one more second. I don't know."

"Would you have kissed him in that one more second?" she asks, and Parker makes a face, squirming.

"No."

"Parker, I don't understand you. You want him, he obviously wants you. Why can't you just kiss him?" she asks, a little frustrated with her herself.

"I don't know," she says quietly, and curls her arms into herself. "I'm just… I just can't. Not now."

Sophie doesn't press it, but she hopes Parker can find it within herself to do it soon. She needs to be happy, and Hardison makes her happy, that much is obvious. Parker's looking vulnerable, so Sophie sighs, running her fingers through the girl's hair, pulling her towards herself. Parker relaxes a bit and leans her head on her shoulder, just needing to lean on her. Maybe to be comforted, maybe just because she hasn't seen her in so long. Sophie doesn't know.

The next morning didn't go over as smoothly as she would have liked. When her and Eliot walked into Nate's apartment together, everyone turned around and looked at them. Nate, Hardison, Parker, Tara. Tara's face breaks out into a smile, and she gets up, coming over to her quickly to wrap her in a hug.

"Damn girl, fuckin' finally," she says, holding her tight. They didn't see each other after their phone call; Tara just went straight to Boston. Sophie was smiling, glad to see her old friend again. When they pulled away, she flicked her hair, "Like the long."

She smirks, flicking Sophie's. "Like the short."

But they're interrupted by Hardison, who pretty much tackles her, making her let out an 'oof!' as he squeezes her. "Never leave again," he tells her, still holding her tight. She can't help but smile at how cute he's being. "They yell all the time when you're not here," he tells her, like he isn't one involved in the yelling. Like he's telling on them, and it makes her smirk. She knows better though, she knows how he fights with Eliot.

He releases her, and Parker looks at her. "I already hugged you, I'm good," she says, and brings the straw of her juice box up to her lips and slurps loudly.

Sophie looks at Nate, but he isn't looking at her. He's looking at Eliot, in this way that signifies sudden death. Oh shit. "Three days?" he asks, trying to be calm. "What the hell were you doing for three days?"

Hardison, Tara, and Parker kind of back away from the conversation, moving away as if to watch from the sidelines. Sophie stays silent, waiting for Eliot to speak. She doesn't know if she wants to tell Nate yet. By the look on Nate's face though, he already suspected.

"Nothing, I was at fuckin' McDonalds for two of them," Eliot tells him flatly.

"I can back that up," Hardison says, raising his hand. "Got footage." But Nate just shoots him a glare, and Hardison sheepishly puts down his hand, staying silent. Then he's looking at them both again.

"Why?" he asks dangerously.

"It's none of your business," Eliot growls at him, not liking the way he was treating him. But Nate was staring him down. He _knew. _He just knew.

"Get out of my damn house, Eliot."

"No, not till you tell me what your fuckin' problem is, Nate," Eliot responds, raising his voice. Sophie didn't like where this was going, so she grabs hold of his arm, trying to pull him back towards her.

"Don't, please," she tells him, holding onto him. She doesn't want to start a fight, not here. Not now.

Nate just laughs in disbelief, like he can't believe what he's seeing in front of him. Hardison apparently _just _seems to get it, because he starts waving his finger at the two of them with this look for pure shock on his face. Parker grabs his hand though, pulling it back towards him quickly, like she didn't want to disturb the animals in their natural habitat. She's still watching what was going on. Tara was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, apparently entertained by the interaction.

"You're a fucking bastard," Nate spits out at him, and Eliot starts to move towards him. Sophie desperately pulls him back, gets in front of him, trying to stop him. Block him. Hands on his chest, she tries to make him look at her.

"No, Eliot no. Stop, please. Let me handle this, please don't do anything stupid," she begs him, but Eliot's pissed, and his whole body is poised, ready.

"Make him stop talking shit before I feed him his fuckin' teeth," he growls, still not looking at him. He's staring over her head, right at Nate.

"Oh, this is fucking rich."

Eliot tries to move towards him again, but Sophie continues to block him. He just yells at Nate though, "You didn't fuckin' do anything for ten years! Don't get pissed off cause someone else had the balls to do what you _couldn't!"_

"You had no fucking right—" Nate starts, but Eliot interrupts him.

"I have _every _fuckin' right!"

"STOP!" Sophie screams, just desperate now. She can't handle this; she doesn't want a fight over her. She pushes Eliot back, gives him one more pleading look, the turns to Nate. "I need to talk to you, alone," she tells him, walking over to him, past him, right into the next room. She turns around to look at him, he's still unmoving. "Now, Nathan."

Nate just snarls at Eliot, and turns to follow her into the next room. She shuts the door behind them, and she rounds on him. "You need to stop."

"I need to stop? What fuck are you doing, Sophie?! _Eliot?"_

"Yes, Eliot," she says calmly. He just looks at her like he doesn't know who's in front of her. "You took too long, Nathan. I'm… I'm…" she chokes on the word again, but she forces it out, knowing she needs to say it, that it might be the only thing that makes this right. "I'm sorry, okay? But it was too long."

Nate just sets his jaw, pissed. Hurt. He's looking at her, and she feels so horrible about doing this to him. "I'm so sorry," she says again.

Nate takes a breath, narrowing his eyes in anger and looks at the wall. "I bet," he says, using a tone Sophie wishes he wouldn't. He's silent for a minute, as if debating on asking something. But he looks at her, "He… makes you happy?" It was like the words were killing him.

"Yes," Sophie tells him honestly.

There's silence. Long silence that eats at her. "I hate this," he tells her, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I know," she says, her voice lower, sympathetic. She goes to touch his arm, but he moves away from her. "I'm sorry," she says again.

"You know how I feel about you," he says finally.

"Yeah," she says softly, watching him with pity. He's so angry, so broken, and she doesn't know how to make it better. "But you never…" she starts, sighing a little with the honesty, "You never said it. You never told me."

It takes awhile before everything is somewhat close to being fixed again. Tara left, leaving the five of them to work out the issues between them. It was a long time before they went on another job together, but when they did, Sophie and Eliot acted like they were just friends in front of Nate. Trying to make it easier, not throw it in his face. After awhile, the glares and snide comments to each other faded, and things were back to normal, at least for the most part.

But during that time, the long stretch of jobless time that lasted almost two months, Sophie was trying to, shit, have some kind of… relationship with Eliot. Which of course sounds absurd, because Eliot is not the candy and flowers type of guy.

It started out, the first couple weeks, with just sex. Raw, pure, animalistic fucking. Here, there, bloody everywhere. In his apartment, in hers; the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink, the couch, the damn _porch _(she wasn't too happy about that one, she's sure her neighbor saw them, he's been looking at her funny recently). Sex, all the time. He slapped her around, humiliated her, forced her to suck his dick, even experimented with breath play for her. Anal, they did that too. Hurt like hell at first but now she can take it with the best of them, actually enjoys it. But they didn't just do kink, sometimes he would lay her down and treat her like she's made of gold; kissing her softly, touching her gently, making her gasp and hold on to him and just wish for one damn second that he'd say that she was his.

He never said that. Never said she was his girlfriend, that she was exclusively his… and that he was exclusively hers.

But she couldn't ask about it, she didn't want to freak him out.

And then a month went by and all of a sudden he wasn't coming over as much anymore, wasn't calling as much. The sex was maybe two times a week at best, when it used to be four times a day. Never soft anymore, always rough and quick and out the door again. Something was wrong.

"I think he's cheating on me," Sophie tells Parker, the words choking up in her throat as she stands in Parker's doorway. It was the first thing out of her mouth.

"Do you want me to set him on fire?"

"What? No," Sophie says, and pushes past her, into her apartment, just needing to be inside. Parker closes the door behind her. Sophie collapses on her couch, and puts her face in her hands.

Parker just looks at her, "Good, it'd be a shame to ruin his pretty hair." She pauses, then says, "I thought he hasn't said yet that you were his girlfriend."

"He hasn't," Sophie groans, hating that.

"So how can he be cheating on you?"

That makes Sophie cry all of a sudden, and Parker's eyes go wide, not knowing what to do. "He's not… he's just bloody just going out and getting some from some stupid blonde fake tittied whore at the bar and there's nothing I can do about it!"

Parker walks over to her cautiously, as if someone crying was something to be wary of. But she sits next to her, and awkwardly pats her on the leg, in a 'there, there' kind of gesture.

"Are you on your period?" she asks sympathetically.

Sophie sniffs, looking up at her. Why the hell does she have to…? Ugh. "Don't tell me you can smell it or something weird," she says.

"No, just every three months when your birth control lets you actually have one, you start crying over everything," Parker explains. "Remember that time I was watching the Discovery Channel and you came in, saw the dolphins 'making love' and started crying because you weren't a dolphin?"

"That's not… that's not why I was crying, Parker," Sophie says, wiping her tears away. God, that was like a year ago, maybe even two. "I was just upset over Nate."

"No, you started talking about dolphins and how they can have love but you can't, and how you hated you were a person." A pause, "I assumed you wanted to be a dolphin. I can see the appeal."

"Parker, just… shut up, okay?" Sophie says, desperate for her to just… stop rambling about shit that doesn't matter. She starts lays her head on Parker's chest, just needing to be held. It takes Parker awhile, to adjust to the touchy feeliness, but then she puts her arms around her.

"I'm glad I don't cry when I get mine, or do anything else weird," she says.

Sophie scoffs, "Please, I can track your cycle by when your 'special angry place' arises. Usually there are guns involved."

"That's not my cycle, that's my bipolar."

"I keep telling you that you need meds," Sophie tells her, chiding her. Parker shrugs.

"I don't like them."

Sophie sighs, staying silent for awhile, just lying on Parker. Fuck, she hated this. Weren't things supposed to be happy with Eliot? _Good?_ She might be on her rag, but that doesn't change the fact that he barely sees her anymore.

"Do you think he's fucking someone else?" she asks softly. Parker's started to play with her hair, probably knotting it up, but she didn't care. It still felt nice. Being touched.

"I dunno, you want me to spy?"

"No," she says automatically, then changes it to, "Yes. I mean no."

"Yes or no?"

"I mean no, but I won't be opposed if you do and then just… tell me," Sophie says carefully. She doesn't want Eliot to know that she got Parker to spy on him, after all. That's one bloody fight she seriously doesn't want to have.

Parker did spy on him. For four days. But when she came back to report, there was nothing to tell. Eliot stayed at home a lot, no one came over. Sometimes he'd go out to the bar, but didn't talk to anyone. He just sat there and drank. So when Eliot did come over for his once a week fuck, or whatever it was, after pounding into her so hard and making her scream his name until her voice was hoarse, this time she didn't just let him walk out on her.

He's picking up his clothes, putting them back on. He pulls up his jeans, buttoning them. "Gotta go," he explains to her. She just stares at him from a minute from on the bed.

"Why?"

He looks at her, and then bends down to pick up his shirt from off the ground, breaking eye contact as he says, "Got shit to do."

"Like what?"

He pulls the shirt on over his head and looks at her like she's the one being weird. "What is this? Fuckin' twenty questions?"

"No," Sophie says, not being able to contain the anger and the hurt in her voice. "I just want to know why you always come over, shag me, and then bloody walk out the door five minutes later. Is it that horrible to be around me?"

"Don't get all girly on me, jeez," he says, and her eyes flash at him as he turns. "I'll see you later." He starts to walk out of the bedroom, but she's up in a second, following behind him, still naked.

"When?"

"I don't know, just later, okay?" He opens her front door, walking out of it. "Bye," he says, leaving her just standing there. Only she wasn't going to just stand there, hell no. She's out the door, following him outside, still completely naked.

"No, I'm not just going to let you walk out of here again!" she yells at him, and his eyes go wide before he turns, seeing her very nude and in public.

"Fuck, Sophie, get back inside!" he yells at her, and then he's pushing her backwards, guiding her back in the house, slamming the front door behind him once they're back inside. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"You're what's wrong with me, you selfish _prick!"_ she screams, angry. Fuck him, fuck the hell out of him. He really is one great big _asshole _isn't he?!

"What the hell did I do?!"

But she's upset, and she's emotional, and she can feel her throat start to close and the tears well in her eyes as she just glares at him. "You just come in here, whenever you want, and you take what you need and then you don't… you don't even _look_ at me after anymore! You're making me feel like I'm a… like I'm just some bloody prostitute!"

"Thought that's what you wanted; being a whore," he says, looking at her like she's the one that's acting insane.

"It's just a game!" she screams, frustrated. Her fists hit his chest, just needing to hurt him, even though she's sure it doesn't. "It's just a _sex game,_ Eliot!" she screams, hitting him again, though this time he grabs her wrists, trying to make her stop. She struggles, just still screaming at him, "You're making me feel like I'm nothing, nobody! Just a convenient _pussy!"_ She screams again, just needing to make some loud sound of her anger. She's looking at him, eyes misted over, but so furious. "I want to be with you, you stupid fucking selfish bloody _MORON!_ Not just act like I'm your fucking blow up _sex doll!"_

She's crying now, she can't help it. Fucking bawling, all over him. "Shit," he swears under his breath, watching the wreck she's become. "Sophie, shit, I'm sorry," he says, wrapping his arms around her. She just buries her face in her chest and cries, not knowing what else to do. "Come on, please don't cry. Fuck, come on, darlin', please…"

She chokes back a sob, and mumbles into his chest, her voice so distraught and broken, "Why are you doing this to me?" She's holding onto his shirt, scared like hell. This was either a beginning or an end, and she didn't know which way it was going to go.

"Hey," he says, pushing her back a little from him so he could look at her face. She looks up at him, mascara probably running down her face, but it didn't matter. "Hey," he says again softly, "Come on baby, please don't cry…" he says, and thumb wipes away one of her tears before coming into kiss her softly on the lips. But that just makes her sob into his mouth, not sure if she was crying because he called her baby (which he's never done before) or because she was still upset.

When they break, she asks again, one more time, feebly, "Why?" She's so broken; she can hear it in her voice. She hates the sound of it.

"I just…" he starts, looking away from her. Shifting uncomfortably, like he can't stand to be inside of his own skin. "Got freaked out," he admits, then looks at her. Then he speaks again, his voice full of regret, "I'm gonna hurt you, Sophie."

"You can't know that," she tells him, wiping away her tears, looking at him. He can't just know those things, he doesn't see into the future.

"Yes I can," he tells her, and steps away from her. He runs his fingers through his hair, and lets out this frustrated sigh. "Fucking hurt everyone. I ain't good for you."

"Eliot…" she tries, coming closer to him, but he steps away from her again. It breaks her heart, rips it in two. He can't just walk away from her.

"Ask Aimee," he tells her, his voice filled with self-loathing. "Hell, I got a fucking list a mile long. You wanna see it? Ask any of them." He looks at her, and she knows he hates doing this as much as she hates having it done to her. "I'm sorry Sophie, but this has got to stop. You need to find someone else."

"I don't _want_ anyone else!" she cries. "I want you! I want to be with you! I don't care if you hurt me okay? Everything's got to come to an end at some point, right? Fuck, Eliot. You're so goddamn selfish! And so bloody _stupid!"_ She's just angry now, again, still upset but more angry with him. "That's what relationships are about! It's bad, it's good, it hurts, it's fucking _amazing,_ it's what makes it human!"

"You deserve someone who's gonna come in and sweep you off your feet, fuckin' buy you nice things. Jewelry, clothes, whatever. Treat you like a damn princess," he tells her.

"I don't want any of those things! Fuck, I already_ have_ all of those things!" she screams, and now she's coming over to him. She refuses for this to end this way. She shoves him back hard, and he falls back onto the couch. She gets on top of him, pinning him there. "It's not material shit that matters! I couldn't even give half a fuck if you ever take me out on a goddamn date, okay?!" she's breathing heavily, her anger threatening to consume her, but she controls it, tries to calm down. She looks down at him, and he's unmoving. "You… you feel things for me," she says softly, trying to suppress the anger. "I know you do. I can see it when you look at me."

"That doesn't have anything to do with this."

"That has _everything_ to do with this!" she yells at him. "God, Eliot, just stop being such a scared little wanker and just fucking take a chance for once, even if it scares you!"

He looks at her, his eyes burning into hers. "I am _not_ scared."

"Yes you are, you're terrified that this is going to end badly. And you know what? It probably will. Some day, but not fucking today, and not right now. Right now you are going to sit here, and you are going to tell me _exactly_ how you feel about me."

Eliot just looks at her, like he can't believe she's gonna make him do that. She knows he's bad with feelings, but at this point, she couldn't really care less. He was going to do it. "I… I don't know, I mean, you know how I feel about you," he tries to avoid.

"Tell me. Damnit Eliot, just bloody tell me."

Eliot's internal struggle is playing on his face, and so is his frustration. "Fuck, I don't know, what the hell do you want me to say? That I fucking think about you all the time? That I fuckin' look at you, and all the goddamn shit in this world don't seem like it's so fucked up anymore? Shit, Sophie…." He's really frustrated now. "This is stupid," he says finally, giving up.

Sophie bites down lightly on her tongue, and she just looks down at him. "It's not stupid," she tells him quietly. There's silence, and she needs to ask. "Are you in love with me?"

Eliot shifts his eyes away from her, looking at the wall. "I don't know."

It doesn't bother her, that answer. "I appreciate your honesty," she tells him, because she does.

"You're welcome, I guess," he says, still not looking at her. More silence. Then finally he looks at her, but it's cautiously, "Are you?"

She doesn't avert her eyes, doesn't avoid him when she answers, "Getting there. I don't know, falling, I guess." A pause. "Yes."

Sophie can see that Eliot's feeling something, and is trying to suppress his own emotions. "You shouldn't love me," he tells her.

"Tough," she says. "You don't get a choice in the matter."

He just looks at her, and it's another long, agonizing silence. Finally he lets out a breath, giving in. "You… want to be my girlfriend then?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he says. He's squirming a bit though, uncomfortable. "Want me to get you like a promise ring or something? Know girls like that shit…"

She smirks, "You don't have to get me anything. I just want you."

Things were better after that, and once everything at work had calmed down, it was even more amazing. They had their fights, sure. Every couple does. But the next month was just so perfect that it felt like nothing could bring Sophie down. Their little dysfunctional family was together again. Happy, for once.

It was all so… weird, maybe. But weird was her normal. And she loved every moment of it.

Sophie screams out of automatic reaction when she looks up from coming into her apartment and seeing Parker just standing there in front of her. She drops her shopping bag and puts her hand over her chest, trying to slow her breathing. "Damnit," she says, looking at her angrily. She knows she hates it when she does that.

"What'd you get?" Parker asks, scooping up the shopping bag from the floor. Sophie makes a go for it, but is too late.

"No, Parker, don't—"

But it's too late, Parker pulled out the box, staring at it in wide-eyed fascination. Sophie flushes red. "What's _this_ for?" Parker asks, taunting her a little bit. She's waving it in front of her, bouncing it up and down. Sophie tries to grab for it again, but misses, and Parker steps back.

"Nothing, it's just—"

"A strap on," Parker finishes, smirking. "Are you thinking of switching teams?" she asks, like part of her hopes she might be.

Sophie's a little bit convinced that Parker does want her. Maybe a little bit. It's sure been looking that way recently.

"You wish," she says, and grabs the box from her successfully this time, putting it back in the bag.

"A little," Parker tells her honestly, and Sophie's taken aback by that. She's never really admitted it before. But she can't help but smirk, tease her a little.

"Disappointed?"

"Maybe," she replies, but continues. "But I won't be if you tell me what it's for, if you're not thinking of using it on me."

Damn, Parker. That makes her flush red again. That was too blunt. Parker giggles at her reaction. "Tell me," she prods. "I mean it's not for…" then she pauses, and her eyes go wide, "It's not for _Eliot,_ is it??"

"Shhhh," Sophie hisses at her, like Eliot can hear her or something, even though he's not even here. "Just shut up."

"It _is!"_

"Parker, please, if he finds out you know, he'll be so angry with me," she says, begging her not to say anything with her eyes. Parker grins, but holds out her pinky.

"Pinky swear. I won't tell."

Sophie takes her pinky and smiles, "Thank you. Now let me go put this away."

But when she walks back into the living room, it wasn't just Parker in there, it was Eliot. "What the heck? How the hell do you guys always _ninja_ in here?"

"We don't _ninja_ anything," Eliot tells her, searching the couch cushions for her remote. "- Which ain't a verb, by the way - you're just kind of deaf."

She rolls her eyes, she didn't need a vocabulary lesson. "Ain't isn't a word," she counters, just needing to be… right. She watches him search her couch. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for your remote; the game's on."

"You came over here to watch the game, seriously?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance. But they've been together for four months now, so annoyance wasn't anything new. It was a relationship, after all.

"Your TV's bigger. Plus, you got Parker. Go have girl fun; braid each other's hair or whatever you do." Then a smile lights yup his face as he finds the remote. Jeez. Sometimes he was such a _man._

"Come on Sophie," Parker says with a little smirk. "Let's go have _girl fun_."

Parker was looking at her in a way implied more like girl-on-girl fun. God, she needs to get her with Hardison, this is getting ridiculous. While she understands the attachment, her being the closest person to Parker after all, she knew that Parker was trying to settle, maybe even avoid, thinking that she'll never get Hardison. Sophie still doesn't understand why she thinks that. She puts her hands on her hips. "Parker, go take a cold shower or something."

But Parker just keeps looking at her, this naughty little gleam in her eyes that Sophie's pretty sure she should fear. When she speaks, she's still looking at her, but addressing Eliot. "Eliot, is it okay if I kiss your girlfriend?" Sophie's eyes widen. What does she think she's...?!

"I don't care, just do it in the other room," Eliot says, eyes still not leaving the TV. She just stares at him, this look of utter disbelief on her face. One, because he actually gave Parker permission, and two because even though he gave Parker permission, he didn't even want to watch. She didn't peg him for that type of person. "Frankly I'm surprised you haven't already," he finishes, like it doesn't matter.

"What?!" Sophie asks, the outburst just coming out of her like wildfire. She just didn't get what the hell was going on. Parker was smirking; victory.

Eliot lets out a little annoyed sound that he has to explain this to her. "Best friends usually kiss each other, right?" he asks, but he still doesn't look at her. He's flipping through the channels, trying to find the game, or another game, or whatever he was doing. "Every girl I've dated always told me that; that they make out with their best friend, just for the shit of it. I don't care. Do what you do, just don't fuck her."

"I'm not gonna—!"

"You heard him," Parker says, and suddenly Sophie's being backed into her bedroom. Damn her, damn _him._ She doesn't want to just… find out if she'll actually like it. But Parker's more controlling than she thought, and she pushes her up against a wall. Sophie's looking at her, her breathing heavy. She can't…

"Parker…" she starts to say, but it comes out as sort of a whisper. Parker's pressed against her, her hands on her torso, holding her. Controlling her, just with one firm little touch. Sophie hates right now that she knows everything about her, because she's using it against her. Sophie's staring up at her, her body shaking a little. She's nervous, maybe even a little scared. Scared of what she might make her feel. She really didn't need to find out if she could possibly be bisexual today.

That was so _not_ on her to do list for the evening.

"Don't look so scared, you're gonna ruin it," Parker tells her, voice low. Sophie can feel Parker's breasts up against hers, and yeah, okay, yes, it is freaking her out a little.

"I'm not gay," Sophie tells her, just trying to… explain. Something. But she's having second thoughts about what she said, because really, feeling just a little bit gay at the moment. It worries her to realize she likes the way Parker's tiny frame is pressed up against hers.

"Neither am I," Parker says, and she has a little smile on her face.

"I'm a woman," Sophie reminds her.

"No, you're Sophie," Parker says. "You're just Sophie, it's different…" Her hand on her torso is going lower, making its way to her hip. She purses her lips together, like she's trying to think.

Sophie doesn't want to admit that that made sense.

But Parker doesn't let her get out anymore words. Her lips find hers, and Sophie gasps a little, closing her eyes. Damnit. She was going to let her do this, part of her wanted her to do this. Parker kisses her in a way that leaves her panting, and she willingly opening her lips for her so she can take what she wants from her. Christ. She…. _Christ._

Sophie hears herself moan softly against her lips, and finds that her hands are pulling her closer. She liked it. Shit, she liked it a lot. But Parker stops, just as soon as she started, pulling back from her and licking her bottom lip, leaving Sophie breathless and flushed.

"That was fun," she says, looking at her, studying her. She smiles, "You_ liked _it."

"I hate you," Sophie pants a little, but her heart's not in the words, and Parker smirks. She likes watching what she did to her; it seems to make her a little excited. She bites her bottom lip a little.

"Now that I got you horny, I'm going to go," she tells her, factually. "And you can pry the boyfriend off of the TV, and fuck him with your little toy. I need to be somewhere."

"Where?" Sophie asks. Damn, her head was still kind of spinning.

Parker just purses her lips together, trying not to smirk. "Just… somewhere else." She looks at her one last time, before pressing her lips against Sophie's. When they break she smiles. "I'll call you," she promises, before turning and walking out the door. Sophie just stands there, her back against the wall. God, Parker. God, _Eliot._ That was his fault.

Now she's all sexually confused. She didn't need that today.

She decides Eliot is going to pay for that, so she strips herself of all her clothes before walking into the living room, standing directly in front of the TV. Eliot's eyebrows raise as he slowly looks up her body, taking in that she was naked. "Damn," he says slowly, and smirks. "If I knew she'd make you do that, I would have told her to kiss you sooner."

She narrows her eyes at him, then cocks and eyebrow. "I have a present for you," she tells him.

"I know, I'm looking at it."

Sophie rolls her eyes, "Not that, idiot." Really, their terms of endearment to each other were just twisted, but they both did it. It was just something normal for them; talking shit to each other, talking down to each other.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow, "Alright then, let's see it."

She curls her finger at him, motioning for her to follow. He does, forgetting the game on the TV, only interested in the one they were about to play. "Get on the bed, close your eyes," she tells him, enjoying her brief moment of control. He always gives her a little, but it never lasts long. He does what she says, closing his eyes as she goes into the closet she gets it. She gets it out of the packaging, and she knows Eliot's curious from the noises, she can see it on her face. She smiles, coming over to him, crawling on top of him with it in her hand.

"Don't open your eyes yet," she tells him, low voice all hot and heavy in his ear. "I want you to guess."

"I don't know," he says, a little frustrated. He hated guessing games, Sophie knew that. For some reason that's what made it more fun for her. "That fuckin' massage oil you keep begging me to get?"

"Nope," she says, and starts to drag the toy down his chest.

"A vibrator?"

"Nope."

"Sophie," he says, fed up. She smirks, running the tip across his jaw. He's silent for a second, until she dangles the harness on him, making him feel it.

"…You didn't."

"I did."

He opens his eyes, seeing the strap on, and she smirks at him, "Wanna play?" she taunts, dangling it in the air in front of him. She watches his pupils darken, the desire set in. He did. He growls at her, something primal, as he flips her over, getting on top. Her control is over.

He tears his shirt off, up over his head, and throws it to the ground. She squirms beneath him, that amused victory look she has on her face from doing something right. "I bet it gets you off," he growls in her ear. "The thought of it. Fucking me like that 'cause I want you to."

Sophie bites her lower lip as Eliot starts to take off his pants. "Yes," she breathes out. "I want to satisfy you…"

"Suck it," he orders her once he's naked. Looking at her; controlling, demanding, sexy. "Suck it like it's my cock." He's watching her, hungry, and she does what he says, putting it in her mouth, making a show for him. She watches his breathing pick up, and she moans for effect, closing her eyes and taking the whole thing down her throat.

"Mmm, that's right. Suck it off, bitch. Good girl…"

Sophie really does love him, she knows that now. Not because of this, just because of everything. How they were, how they weren't. How it was everything and nothing all at the same time. He dominates her, controls her, but at the same time cares about her, protects her, makes her feel safe, happy. He's not ready to say it back to her yet, she knows that. But it didn't matter. She was patient, she could wait.

She continues to put on a show for him, until he tells her to stop. And when he does, he's already got the lube in his hand, rolling over onto his stomach. He throws the bottle to her, and she catches it. "One finger at a time," he tells her. "Slowly, then do it."

Sophie knew that already, but knows he has to say it, just to tell her what to do. As she snaps open the bottle, he gets on his hands and knees, and for a moment Sophie felt powerful, even though he was still controlling her. But he was all bent over for her, wanting for once for her to violate_ him_, and it just made it all so sexy. She lubes up her fingers, nice and wet, before sliding her fingers down the crack of his ass. Eliot makes some sort of sound, almost a moan, but almost a growl, and pushes his ass back into her, needing to feel more of her.

"Do it," he tells her sharply, and she obeys. She slides her first finger in cautiously, and Eliot closes his eyes, rocking his hips. "God… _fuck."_ he's panting a little from the feeling, obviously enjoying it. "Damn…"

Sophie kind of likes seeing him from this angle. It's really pretty, and yet at the same time so damn dirty. "You like that?" she asks, almost a taunt, domination of her own coming out of nowhere. It makes Eliot smirk.

"Mmm… you tryin' to top, darlin'?"

"Maybe," she says, sliding her finger in and out of him slowly. She likes the flashes of pleasure it makes play across his face.

"Fine," he says between gasps, a smirk playing on his face, almost like a challenge as he says the next words, "Top me."

That gets Sophie excited. She pumps her finger in him deeper, feeling him clench around her. "Tell me you like it!"

"I fuckin' love it, shit…" Eliot gasps out, his fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath them. "More…"

"More what?" she demands; she's gonna make him say it.

Eliot growls, clearly not used to being bottom. "More _please…"_ It's said sarcastically, but she'll still take it as a win regardless.

"That's better," Sophie says, and slides another finger in him slowly. Eliot gasps. Lurches forwards, then back again, making her go in deeper. Sophie bites down on her tongue lightly, watching him push back into her hand, going deep to the knuckle. "And you call _me_ a dirty little whore?" she taunts, watching him. Amused.

"You're the filthiest whore I've ever met," he gasps out, and it makes her cock an eyebrow at him. Two can play at that game.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Fuckin' right," Eliot groans, his hips straining further back, rocking. Harder, faster. But then a slap is heard, echoing in through the room, and Eliot swears as he lurches forward in surprise, "Fuck! Damnit, Sophie!" It makes her giggle.

"What? Can give but not receive?" she taunts. "Little pussy bitch." She knows she's getting him all riled up, angry. But at the same time she can tell it's turning him on. His pupils are huge; his muscles are poised as he holds onto the bed, still taking her fingers.

"What'd you just call me?"

"A little… fucking… pussy…. _bitch,"_ she says slowly, smirking. Then she slips a third finger in, slowly, cautiously. She knows if she hurts him that she'll pay for it later. Eliot's about to retort, but the feeling of more of her inside of him just makes him groan.

"Fuck," he swears, eyes shut tight. "Yeah… just like that… shit…"

Her other hand has found his balls, and as he rocks back against her, she plays with them in a way that she knows drives him crazy. "Mmm," she says, watching him. It was doing something to her, seeing him all bent over and submissive. Well, as submissive as Eliot could get. "Beg me for more…"

"I'm so gonna tie your ass up and tea bag your goddamn face later," Eliot promises as a retort, refusing to beg, getting tired of being the submissive, and annoyed that she's refusing to give up what power she had. It just makes her smirks. "God damnit… ummfff…." He moans as she starts to speed up the pace of her fingers.

"Gonna have to catch me first."

"You're asking for it," he tells her, groaning. "Fuckin' mean that… _Shit." _Sophie's slipped in a forth, and it was tight like hell, but Eliot was already holding onto the bed sheets like he was trying to control himself.

"You better not cum yet," she tells him, eyes flashing.

"Just stick the fuckin' thing in me, damn!" Eliot yells forcefully, thrusting his hips back against her hand as hard as he can. But Sophie isn't gonna let him finish before she gets to play, so she slides her fingers out of him, and Eliot swears at her, "Fuck you."

"I'm gonna be fucking you in a minute," she retorts, and grabs the strap on, putting it on. It was double-headed, allowing her to slip one end into herself before securing the harness around her hips. She squirms a little at the feeling of it inside her. Fuck, this was gonna feel good; for both of them.

"Sophie!" he yells, impatient. Annoyed and frustrated. She rolls her eyes, grabbing the lube. He was such a tantrum child sometimes, always needing to have his way.

"If you don't shut up I'm gonna make you suck it before I stick it in you," she warns as she squeezes some lube into her hand before running it up and down the shaft of the dildo. Eliot just narrows his eyes at her, like she'd be suicidal to even dare. It doesn't even phase her; she's having too much fun having some control.

When she's ready, she slaps his ass again. He growls at her, but it just makes her smirk. "Come on now baby, don't be like that," she mocks, feigning hurt, but not being able to keep the amusement out of her voice. Running her lubed hand up the crack of his ass again, she tells him, "Now spread yourself nice and wide for me." A pause, a bigger smirk, "Like a good boy."

"So not doing that," he tells her. "Gonna make me look like some gay fuckin' prostitute." She giggles.

"I know, so do it."

"Sophie!"

"Do it or I'm not gonna fuck you," she tells him, harshness in her voice. Serious. He growls, giving in. He lays his head on the bed, keeping his ass nice and high as he reaches back and spreads herself for him.

"So gonna fucking give you orgasm denial for four goddamn hours later," he warns her, but she's just staring at his ass. Man he looked like such a whore; it was hot.

"I can take it," she tells him, getting in position behind him, holding the dildo with one hand so she can position it right. He scoffs.

"Yeah right, you're violent and threatening to castrate me after only two."

He was right, but whatever. She was having fun at the moment. If that was the price to pay, then so be it. She can be a good little bitch when she needs to be. She gets serious for a minute though.

"If it hurts, tell me."

"I can fuckin' handle it."

"I'm serious, Eliot," she says, knowing he's all big macho man and tries to pretend like a shit ton of bricks in the face doesn't hurt him.

"Just do it!" he yells at her. He's squirming a little in anticipation. She gives in. Fine, if it hurts, it's so not her problem. Stubborn bastard.

She slides the head in first slowly, and Eliot groans low in the back of his throat. "Fuck," he pants out. She's about to ask if_ that_ hurt, but he's pushing back against her slowly, working it in deeper at his own pace. She stays still, letting him have the control. He stops when it's halfway in, panting, his knuckles turning white as he holds onto the bed beneath him.

"I can go back to using my fingers if this—"

"It's fine," he gasps out. "Fuckin' got this." Stubborn. She watches as he presses back into her slowly again, more slowly than before. Finally it's all the way inside him, her hips pressed up to his ass. She's holding onto him, biting her tongue softly. God, okay, this was sexier than she thought it was gonna be.

"Jesus," he groans. He's still spreading himself for her, even though it's not necessary at this point. It makes Sophie smirk, knowing he's finding the sexy in it. "Fuck me, Sophie," he tells her, but it sounds strangely like begging.

It makes her drip with desire. She pulls back slowly, then thrusts into him, gasping at the feeling of the other end of the dildo inside of her. "Shit," she pants, holding onto his hips tighter. She thrusts into him again, making them both groan simultaneously.

Eliot's eyes are closed, this look of pure pleasure and lust on his face. She thrusts into him again, a little harder this time. He pants out, and it makes the dominatrix in her rise to the surface. "You like that?" she taunts him breathlessly, "Huh?"

Another thrust, and Eliot gasps out, "Yes! Fuck, Sophie, harder!" She does what he asks, sliding in and out of him with more force, more passion, more control. The end that's inside of her keeps slamming against her g spot, and she's gasping hard.

"Fuck, Eliot, oh fuck…"

"Faster!" he yells at her, and she can do nothing but obey him. Her nails are starting to dig into his flesh, and his hands have found the bed again, pushing himself back up on his hands so he can thrust his ass further into her. His force makes the end inside of her shake, making her senses go on overload. She slaps his ass again, pushing into him more, quickly, desperately.

"God, I want you to cum all over yourself," she pants out, the desire dripping from every word like sweet molasses. She cries out again as she tries to pick up the pace, tries to be the one still in control, but his hips are moving faster, making him the one that's slamming into her. All she can do is hold onto him.

"Yes, Eliot!" she screams, eye shut tight and head spinning. She was about to cum, and she needed to take him with her. She slaps his ass again, digging her nails in roughly and he growls something primal as he speeds up the pace that he's forcing himself back onto her. Panting, grunting, sweating, he was taking it and yet giving it to her at the same time. But that was Eliot for you.

Then she feels him tense beneath her, teeth clenched as he gasps out hard, and she can see him release all over himself and the bed beneath them. That sight alone would have made her cum, even without all the extra penetration. She screams, swearing, cursing his name but praising it at the same time as her orgasm makes her see stars.

She has no idea how the hell they got unattached, or how the hell he ended up being the one on top of her, his hands undoing the harness, sliding the dildo out of her. All she knows is that she's on her back, breathless and feeling infinite. Then there are lips on hers, and she moans softly into his mouth.

It was all so perfect. Unconventional, bloody screwed up sometimes but all so damn perfect, being with Eliot. He was amazing, he really, really was.

And she was never going to let him go.

**THE END**


End file.
